


Picture Us

by freelance_writes11



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Awkward Crush, Chubby Katsuki Yuuri, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Misunderstandings, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Slow Burn, Victor Nikiforov is Extra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 34,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freelance_writes11/pseuds/freelance_writes11
Summary: Victor came to Yuuri in the grayest of times and gave his world color again without even trying. Grateful is not the word Yuuri’s looking for, yet the longer Victor is around, the stranger he gets. The more he denies feelings for this boy, the harder he falls for him. And the harder Yuuri falls, the more painful it gets to pick himself back up.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 27
Kudos: 96





	1. Watercolors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes, someone comes into your life so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise, and changes your life forever.”

The pitiless rain fell without break throughout the day, creating shallow rivers in the roads and muddy swamps in parks. The radio had been announcing the storm of the decade weeks prior and advised all to avoid the inner city and prepare for the harsh elements. Yuuri had defied every warning spelled out and had been forced to seek shelter under an arch bridge since breakfast. The air was so heavy and earthy he could practically taste it, and any time groups of friends, bicyclists, or a tiny car would pass him from above, it sent vibrations in the baby riverbank he was seated across from.

If he leaned forward just enough, he could make out his hunched over, sad reflection.

Sad.

The word sounded childish and flimsy, or like something one would be able to cast off with a joke or a smile. No, “sadness” was the wrong thing stirring and aching in Yuuri’s chest. What sat inside was planted like a seed, waiting for the right conditions to grow and send its roots to choke the strength out his heart.

The first signs of bloom sprouted at the distant sound of a dog barking. _Vicchan._

The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down Yuuri’s face. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide the grief, but he knew it was in vain and eventually succumbed to the wave of his emotions, breaking down and trembling unceasingly. He’d been deeply buried in denial as of late and was far from acceptance.

The passing of his precious toy poodle had shattered his reality. He didn’t want to believe the companion he’d had since he was half its size was gone, but what made it even more jarring was how he hadn’t been able to be around for the pup’s finals days or even attend the funeral.

An athletics program set in Osaka was all Yuuri had been anticipating and focusing on prior to Vicchan’s declining health, and he knew the call to him had broken his mother’s heart just as much as it had his. The news made him disgusted in himself and he immediately dropped out of the program the second the call had ended, despite his parents’ wishes against it.

In a couple more days, it would be one full month without hearing the poodle’s excited barks whenever Yuuri came home from school or savoring the lump of warmth he gave during winter on Yuuri’s bed.

Vicchan was such a good dog.

The 15 year old sniffed hard as the barking he heard in the distance grew louder. Wiping his nose with his sleeve, Yuuri took off his tear-and-rain soaked glasses to clean and get a better judgement of where the sound was coming from. He had to strain his ears above the harsh downpour and feared illusions were tormenting his grieving mind when he no longer heard anything. Sighing, Yuuri flipped his thin hood over his hair and slowly got up, legs sore from sitting for so long. He started up the pathway that led to a sidewalk—

—only to be tackled and sent rolling back down the tiny hill to where he previously sat. His alarmed shout was cut off by a persistent tongue lapping happily at his face.

“Wait! No, no, please!” Yuuri spluttered out, pushing the furry face away. This only encouraged the animal further, and it put all its weight on him and licked at his neck instead. Yuuri laughed at how much it tickled. “Good boy, good boy! Down!”

His own laugh was completely foreign to his ears, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it. Getting a better look at the dog’s face, he noticed how it not only lacked a collar, but that the breed was a poodle. A toy poodle.

Yuuri’s blood ran cold, and for a second all he could hear was the pup’s panting. He slowly reached a hand out, praying this wasn’t a cruel dream. “V-Vi…Viccha−?”

“Makkachin!”

The poodle jumped to the side and obediently sat on its hind legs. Not a moment later, a man holding a clear umbrella appeared at the overlook of the riverbank, chuckling loudly as he began to meet the dog halfway. Yuuri blinked as he approached, realizing it wasn’t a full grown adult as he thought. He seemed roughly Yuuri’s age, a few years older if not around his exact age bracket. His tan jacket looked toasty and dry under the umbrella, but what took Yuuri by surprise was his thick, silver ponytailed hair.

Something replaced the hollowness in his chest after he’d had his cry. It was ghostlike; not entirely there yet its presence could somewhat be addressed. The stranger glanced up from scratching his dog’s ears and sent a warm smile Yuuri’s way, spiking the feeling up his throat.

“Has he startled you?”

Yuuri blinked at the heavy accent laced within the words. It was nice.

“Oh, um…” He cleared his throat, scratching the side of his neck while his gaze snapped to his damp shoes. “No. He’s a very good boy.”

“Isn’t he?” The stranger’s smile extended, though his expression faltered the longer he stared. “ _Ah_ , the rain has really gotten you, hasn’t it? Where is your umbrella?”

“I’m fine.” Deep down Yuuri wished he brought a larger jacket. “I just needed someplace to go and clear my mind. It’s not like I—”

The beaded raindrops suddenly stopped pelting his head, and looking up made his heart sharply skip a beat. The young man was crouched in front of him, holding his umbrella over both of them while a knowing smile graced his lips.

“Come now, that lie won’t work,” he said gently, pointing at Yuuri’s nose. “You’re getting pink all over and you’re shivering. If I left now and you got a nasty cold, that would make me feel guilty. This storm is too depressing. Let me walk you home, okay?”

Yuuri swallowed hard at the unexpected proposal. He’d gone out to grieve in peace but instead had been targeted and trapped by a storm, glomped and slobbered on by a dog that looked like his late one, and was now sharing an umbrella with a total stranger who just offered to walk him home. He didn’t have to be so nice to someone he didn’t even know, Yuuri thought. He could’ve just shrugged the odd confrontation and ignored Yuuri, gotten his dog back under control, and spared himself of a cold.

In the environment around the brunet, when the sun was hesitant to appear and the clouds called for one another in the sickly skies, this stranger’s aura couldn’t have been any more forward than the current storm raging. And yet, Yuuri found himself not minding as much. Yes he was still a stranger and yes it was very bold of him to think Yuuri would allow him to lead him home in the first place.

Though much like the stages of mourning, not every thought or emotion was balanced, and Yuuri felt his trust leaning a bit over the edge for this guy. Taking it all in caused something to cross his face that hadn’t been present in what felt like years.

A smile. A genuine, grateful smile.

As if he would awake from a dream any second, Yuuri carefully extended his palm out, pulse almost as weak as his shallow breathing. The young man let him take his time and comfortingly fit his own palm onto the cold skin, helping Yuuri to his feet and leading him up the hill with a steady hand on the small of his back.

No, this was not a dream. This was actually happening. Yuuri’s mouth trembled at the generous action, hoping the man heard his two whispered words.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-uploaded from my backup files and originally uploaded to Quotev as NYQUTIE. Enjoy! ❤︎


	2. Monochromatic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The best relationships start off as friendships.”

“Yuuri!”

The boy in question could anticipate the bone-crushing hug his mother would give the minute he heard her shout. All manners of guilt chilled him faster than the rain had as the shorter and plump woman rushed into the foyer, lifting him inches off the ground with her concerned embrace.

“You had your father and I worried sick, dear. It’s a habit of yours, yes, but you know we aren’t fond of you rushing off and not telling us or your sister. I know you’re growing independent, but still. And look! You’re soaked. Oh, my poor Yuuri.”

“Your name is Yuuri?”

Yuuri blinked hard at both his mother’s dizzying rant and the stranger’s nonchalant attitude. Was he not overwhelmed by the amount of words and their speed being thrown around? Or was this just how he eased out of awkward situations? Whatever it was seemed to work, because the small woman flashed him a welcoming smile and held a hand out, changing her tone.

“Hello there. Are you one of Yuuri’s friends?” She asked curiously, shaking the second outstretched hand.

This got a chuckle from the stranger, making Yuuri’s face warm. His mother meant well and he loved her so much, but sometimes her spontaneous assumptions that while always innocent, often embarrassed him.

“I don’t see why we can’t have a friendship.” Yuuri’s head whipped to the side. “Your son seems like an interesting and kind person, so why shouldn’t I be fond of him?”

_Because you just met me!_ Yuuri wanted to shout but wouldn’t dare. He didn’t understand why he was getting so worked up. After all, this gentleman had shared his already small umbrella with him so he wouldn’t catch cold. He was patient and understanding when Yuuri couldn’t make out the landmarks to his house and took the long road with him. He had kept asking if Yuuri was okay or needed to rest or if he needed something warm to drink.

All of this and yet he…

“How can we be friends if I don’t even know your name?” Yuuri blurted out, face now boiling for sounding so blunt. He pressed a palm over his mouth when all eyes were on him. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to sound rude.”

The man laughed. “No, no, I understand. I am Victor Nikiforov. It’s nice to meet you Yuuri, and your lovely mother.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart? You can call me Hiroko or Mrs. Katsuki. Whatever works best for you honey. Now”—Hiroko pressed her hands together, looking from her son to his “friend” with an eager smile—“let’s get you nice and dry Yuuri, and you Victor something to eat. You must be hungry. What would you like?”

Victor fell silent and Yuuri’s nerves returned full speed. Again, he loved his mother with all his heart, but surely she had to realize that just because someone had done a good deed didn’t automatically mean they were an immediate close family friend. Hiroko’s heart was too big and precious for the world, and this both warmed Yuuri to the core and made him a bit anxious for her. Being put on the spot was never fun, especially by a random guy’s mother asking you your food preference.

But to Yuuri’s utter surprise and shock, his internal whirlpool of tension was in vain as a wide smile popped on Victor’s face.

“Whatever Yuri likes to eat!”

. . . . . . . .

Yuuri groaned in a rather ironic concept, as he was dressed in loose pajamas after a soothing hot bath but had come out more exhausted than relaxed. The storm had worsened as the night took over, nearly flooding the outer districts and sending tidbits of nature flying, and it had forced Victor and Makkachin to stay in the Katsuki household until morning. He wouldn’t have minded if not for the awkward atmosphere his parents had probably put Victor in while he ate, curious about his funny accent and therefore different culture.

“Where are you from?”

“How are you able to speak so well?”

“Has Japan been kind to you?”

If Victor felt like he was being interrogated, he’d been phenomenal at not showing it and answered all questions with a growing smile. Sure Yuuri had enjoyed getting to know him through his parents, though his heart couldn’t help but swish around nameless concerns and worries to the point that he had to excuse himself to draw a bath and drown out those random sorrows.

Now slightly rejuvenated, Yuuri sighed as he shuffled into his room, letting the messy sheets and large blankets of the bed engulf him. For a minute his mind went blank and his body numbed fatigue, and he was on the verge of a blissful new dream when a jolting weight on his stomach disturbed it all.

He yelped in alarm and was met with a slobber fest all over his previously washed face. “Viccha−! Uh, Makkachin? Makkachin! Down boy, come on.”

An amused laugh sounded from the door, and Yuuri turned to find Victor in a green bathrobe while a small towel wrapped around his head.

“He likes you. I’ve never seen him so excited around anyone else before.”

“Guess I’m a dog whisperer,” Yuuri muttered, scratching under Makkachin’s chin before easing him off. “He’s so sweet.”

“So are your parents. I really like them.”

Yuuri smiled, relieved to hear that Victor hadn’t felt overwhelmed in a stranger’s home. He searched for a strewn towel or any clean fabric in general to wipe the drool from the hyper dog and was just reaching for a random shirt in the corner when he did a double take back at the door.

The towel concealing Victor’s hair was now being used to dry his hands. A freshly washed curtain of gray draped down his back, not a kink or curl to be seen. In Yuuri’s opinion, not many males could pull off lengthy hairstyles, but Victor was a high exception. It fit him well, encased his facial structure nicely, and the longer he stared, the more Yuuri couldn’t imagine it being cut any shorter.

_But maybe he’d look good with short hair too_ , he thought, watching Makkachin paw at his owner’s exposed leg. _I wonder how long it took to grow out. It looks nice._

Victor’s stare, without warning, flew up to meet Yuuri’s eyes, throwing the latter off guard and making him lose balance on the bed. His face joined the status of the other rooms of the house: heated up.

“Yuuri! Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry. I guess I startle ease—”

Yuuri thought his face was going to burst into flames when his eyes refocused and Victor was invading his personal bubble to check to see if he was okay from the fall. Such close proximity gave him a chance to really get a good look at him despite his face being threaded in scarlet. Victor had the kind of face that could stop anyone in their tracks, his cheekbones fine and perfectly symmetrical. He was skinny but not with a skeletal look, but his most beautiful feature had to have been his eyes. There was a softness in the deep ocean blue color, and flecks of silvery light performed tiny ballets throughout.

Victor’s mouth was moving but Yuuri might as well have been deaf. He noticed how the bathrobe was, upon closer inspection, too loose on him and gave full access to his pale yet lightly muscle-laced chest. And, if Yuuri’s eyes wanted to defy him (which they did), a little downwards glance showed a very prominent V-line, making his brain go haywire in thinking if Victor was wearing any underwear—

“Yuuri, are you sick? Your face is like a tomato.”

Yuuri swore he felt the tip of Victor’s fingers grace his face to check, and he scrambled away at the touch, slamming into the bed in the process.

“No! I mean no, I’m not sick. Fine, I’m fine!” _I was looking down there. Why was I looking down there?_

Victor tilted his head at the reaction, and Yuuri feared he’d be called out for it. Instead he shrugged, leaned back on his hands, and smiled. The lack of fabric under the curves of his thighs unfortunately proved that _oh god, he didn’t put underwear back on, oh **god**._

“Well then, the night is young and we have time. How about we start?”

Yuuri didn’t know how to take the sudden lowering of Victor’s voice. “St-start what?”

“Silly! If we’re to be friends, we have to know one another first.”


	3. Impressionism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s amazing how one little conversation can change things forever.”

Chaotic scares above PG-13 toppled out of Yuuri’s mind and a breath of relief unconsciously escaped his lungs. He couldn’t be blamed; the way Victor was dressed, how his legs were positioned, and how he asked the question would have waved red flags for anybody.

“I guess so,” Yuuri replied over his hammering heart and burning blush. “Um, you can go first if you want.”

The way Victor grinned let Yuuri know how big of a mistake that had been.

“My heart stems from Saint Petersburg, but I don’t know much about my parents. My mother may have been an opera singer, and my father… Hm, I can’t remember how many businesses he’s had. Over seventeen, let’s keep it at that. My home rink has never let go of my hand or my feet, and I’ve grown used to golden colors when I wasn’t even sixteen! I moved to Japan two years ago to start at a new school, and so many people have come up to me to be friends already. And Makkachin”—Victor took a break from his rant to smile at his dog, who was curled up in a corner and wagging his tail from being acknowledged—“I have had since I was 10 years old.”

Yuuri smiled a little, opening his mouth to comment when Victor made a noise of remembrance and launched into another lengthier share of his life, this one diving into his personal relationships with friends, former schoolmates, and his skating coach. Then another of the various meals he’s tried in various cities, and another about adventures in Russia as a child, and so much more that made Yuuri’s head spin. Each story went overboard in details that he didn’t have time to say more than one word, and he had to wonder if these were actual true tellings. Judging by Victor’s wild hand gestures and permanent smile, there was no way any one of the memories were false.

Yuuri tried to be respectful and nodded on occasion, wanting nothing more at this point than to head to bed. Seeing the clock tick dangerously close to midnight out the corner of his eye, he forced a grin when Victor strayed off topic and took the opportunity to jump in when he paused to recall something.

“Wow Victor, you have an amazing life and background. I never knew you could do or did all those things.”

“And you?"

“Huh?”

“What about your life and background? I want to hear that as well.”

“Uh…” Yuuri glanced back at the clock and winced. 12:16 a.m. _Victor was really into it_ , his conscience pointed out, _and if he’s **really** intent on being friends, he wouldn’t have told me all those personal stories._ “Um, I was born in the Hasetsu District and I have an older sister who’s in college now. I love pork cutlet bowls. English isn’t my—”

“No, no, your _life_ Yuuri.”

Yuuri gazed to the side for a split second and back to Victor. Was that not what he was doing?

“You know, your life,” Victor repeated with a gleam in his eye. “What fantastic memories have made you _you_?”

Yuuri’s fingers pressed together, his eyes fixated on his lap. “I don’t think I could ever compare to your lavish stories. You’re so much better than me. You get out there without a care in the world and get to see and do incredible things while I’m just…ordinary.”

Victor went silent for a short while before pointing at Yuuri’s nose like he’d done out in the rain. “I found you in the middle of a storm with barely anything to keep you warm by a bridge. If that is what ordinary people do, then yes, I suppose you are just like them.”

A bashful grin tugged at Yuuri’s mouth, though he still avoided the Russian’s eyes in fear he would change color for the millionth time.

“I guess you have a point.” He dug around his brain for something worth talking about. “Well, this is really old, but my parents used to run a hot springs.”

“ _Ah_ , see? I knew there was something more to you!” Victor leaned forward in interest. “Go on, tell me about it.”

“We actually used to live there in one of the renovated wings, and I got to work part-time when I turned 13. It’s on hiatus, but we’re kind of grateful we don’t have a lot of competition. Most hot springs ran out of business years ago, so ours is the only one left in Hasetsu.” Yuuri thought a bit more. “I saved up to go to an athletics program in Osaka for the season with the money I earned working, but I…” A pang went off in his chest. "I had to quit.”

“Why? Too much competition? A broken ankle? You felt homesick?”

With each guess, the shake of Yuuri’s head grew slower. He inhaled the best he could around the heavy fog in his chest, but he could never fool his body or anyone else. Hot tears reintroduced themselves, dripping off his chin.

“My dog. He looks…he _looked_ so much like yours. He passed away while I was a week into the program. I-I couldn’t attend his burial or get to say goodbye.”

This wasn’t how Yuuri wanted to share his stories. They should’ve been happy, full of energy, and carefree like Victor’s. Even if he had nothing to beat traveling to ten other countries or being the son of wealthy parents, Yuuri still had his own fun memories he loved reminiscing with friends and family. He felt wrong throwing Victor such a depressing topic, but it had snuck up on him and taken his emotions hostage once more.

He took his glasses off and roughly rubbed the tears away, clenching the fabric of his pajama pants with his free hand. “I’m sorry, you…y-you wanted to hear good stories and I gave you the opposite. I’m sorry Victor.”

“It has gotten late. I say we wrap things up and start fresh tomorrow.”

The rather blunt bypassing of his quiet breakdown threw Yuuri for a loop, and he watched in a frozen manner as Victor got to his feet to stretch. It wasn’t like he’d been expecting sympathy – after all, the two were still ripe in acquaintanceship. Still, it would’ve been nice to hear some sort of consolation. Yuuri would’ve let a pat to the knee or maybe a hug slide.

“By the way," Victor added, looking down at the boy lost in thought, “where am I going to sleep?”

“Oh.” Yuuri looked to the door, half expecting his sister to appear with the mattress and spare blankets she was supposed to bring out. _Did she forget and fall asleep?_ He thought, chewing his bottom lip. “We were going to give you something to sleep on, but I think my sister might have forgotten. So—”

“So we can share a bed? Like we’re having a sleepover?” Victor interrupted a little too happily, his blue-green eyes shining with a childlike energy.

“Is that not what we’re already doing?” Yuuri mumbled under his breath, clearing a space on his bed to share and going to flip off the light switch.

Out loud he somewhat agreed to the statement, and when he returned to lay under the covers, he was startled by a single arm wrapping around his midsection and pulling him close. Yuuri’s heart shot up his throat as Victor dozed off in seconds, his front moulded to Yuuri’s and sharing body heat as easily as he had shared his stories.

What was happening?

“V-Victor, what’re you doing?” No response. “Victor, you’re kind of on me. Could you scoot over a bit?” Still nothing.

Yuuri peered over his shoulder, having to close one eye at Victor’s light breath flowing past his face. Biting his lip harder this time, he repositioned the back of his head awkwardly on Victor’s collarbone, squeezing his eyes shut and praying neither his parents nor sister would check on them.

 _This is going to be one long night_ , were Yuuri’s final thoughts before his exhaustion caught up with him.


	4. Surrealism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you fall for someone’s personality, everything about them becomes beautiful.”

An aching knot in Yuuri’s neck and a white line of drool sticking to his wrist was the ultimate good morning starter, granting him more annoyance than embarrassment for having slept with his mouth open. He hoped he hadn’t disturbed Victor’s rest. He was known to snore when his energy level depleted too low for his liking and had a habit of turning wildly in his sleep as if he were having night terrors.

He could only pray Victor was a heavy sleeper like him. Otherwise, he’d have reasons aplenty to be embarrassed after their first little ‘sleepover’.

Yuuri groped around for his phone with his eyes shut, wanting to savor some last minute bits of sleep before he had to wake for school, but stopped when his hand met something warm. His brain calmed his racing pulse and simply told him _Makkachin_ , and his palm gave a squeeze to the eager pup’s head. The lack of fur made Yuuri’s heart nearly seize up.

He hesitantly opened his eyes, seeing Victor’s body closer than ever and still fast asleep. Yuuri’s arm had somehow shifted during the night and was loosely wrapped around Victor’s upper thighs. He had just squeezed his bare ass.

Yuuri woke with a start and a sharp gasp of surprise, head immediately turning in Victor’s direction and an apology for moving so suddenly at the ready. His eyes widened at the sight of an empty bed, and as he glanced around the room, he noticed Makkachin was gone too. Unsure if he was trapped in a dream within a dream, Yuuri took his morning routine slow.

Nothing happened while he made his bed, he still felt solid when he brushed his teeth, and by the time he stepped into the breakfast-scented kitchen fully dressed, he was sure he was more awake than ever. His mother busied away by the stove while his father finished setting the table. Rosy peaches and magentas scribbled over the pale sunrise, making the sky tolerable to look at after the previous storm had severely sucked away its beauty.

“Up earlier than usual, I see,” Yuuri’s father teased as he watched his son distractedly sit down. “Need to catch the subway?”

“Joke or not Toshiya, the storm was pretty bad,” Hiroko pointed out. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the boys had trouble falling asleep. Were you able to rest well, Yuuri?”

Yuuri blinked, the environment around him awkwardly setting in. “Huh? Oh, um, y-yes. We slept okay.”

Hiroko chuckled as she topped the table with chilled fruit bowls and hot plates. “If you’re wondering where Victor is dear, he left not too long ago. We made him a little to-go breakfast since he had to catch the earliest train to school. Oh! He also told me to tell you he enjoyed sleeping with you.”

Heat spread throughout Yuuri’s stomach, refusing to take the food he swallowed. _Of course that’s how he would word it._ “It was no big deal,” he mumbled, focusing his gaze on the floor. “He had nowhere else to sleep, so I wanted to—”

“Nowhere to sleep?” Toshiya raised a brow over his coffee mug. “Mari couldn’t find that old mattress?”

“She must’ve gone back to campus early,” Hiroko mused. “Some things can be spared in the middle of a storm. I hope she made it back alright.”

“I’m sure she did. She loves to drive. Yuuri,” Toshiya suddenly swapped the subject, causing his son to jump, “we heard a bit of commotion last night. Your mother said it was just ‘boys being boys.’ How late did you both stay up?”

Yuuri’s appetite went south. He saw nothing short of curiosity on his parents’ faces, almost intrigued, and yet it was like their expressions were reddened with anger. How loud had the two been talking? Did Yuuri accidentally wake them when he fell off the bed? He quietly blamed Mari for having to endure such an awkward night’s sleep and an even more awkward dream induced by it.

“I don’t remember. Sorry if we woke you, we were just… We lost time talking about ourselves. I didn’t know he skated, too.”

Hiroko clasped her hands together, beaming. “That’s wonderful! Maybe you can take him skating sometime if he ever gets homesick. I’m sure he’d love that.”

“Make it a date,” Toshiya agreed with a grin, and Yuuri spat out his orange juice, knowing his father didn’t mean it in _that_ way.

. . . . . . . .

Once out of the train station, Yuuri returned to the ceaseless buzzing of the Japanese streets crowded with people, and the chaos was so perfect, like a movie. The unlimited amount of energy they contained increased with each step, almost like it was an unbelievable chance worth taking to have at least a few moments of pleasure after a day filled with endless hours of thunder, rain, and lightning.

The breeze whistled as Yuuri and a choppy stream of students arrived through the gates, unhurried down the corridors and greeting friends with a hug or playful punch. There was a relatively quiet atmosphere as the early birds swapped their outdoor shoes for their school ones until Yuuri’s phone hummed in his pocket.

“Shouldn’t you be _sleeping_ , Phichit?”

“Shouldn’t you be paying attention in _class_ , Yuuri?”

Yuuri laughed into his hand and closed his locker, knowing the sweet little Thai would find a loophole for just about anything if it allowed the two to talk. Despite being several countries away, three years younger, and on a two-hour time difference, Phichit was always there for Yuuri and was like the little brother he never had.

“I heard you guys had a hell storm the other day. You and your family okay?”

“Yep, just fine.”

“Your voice sounds a little dry. Are you getting allergies early?”

“If I tell you this, I want you to understand it’s my funny way of coping.” Yuuri kept his head down and shoulders hunched as he sidestepped a group of students and slid into the quiet corners of the back row of his year’s classroom. “You know I couldn’t talk to you after Vicchan passed.”

“Of course. You need your space.”

“Thank you. So before the storm hit, all I wanted was to have my own Sunday and just sit and reflect. The storm came earlier than expected, so I had to hide under a bridge. I didn’t immediately go home though.”

“Oh my god Yuuri, I’m so sorry. Why? Were you stuck?”

“Yes, and…no.”

In hindsight, any building would’ve been ten times better than the bridge Yuuri had chosen as solace the other day. His sore throat and loss of appetite that morning were the proven consequences from staying out in the storm, although there was one pro to his choices floating around that he wanted to get out.

“Someone saved me.”

“What! Were you stuck in a flood?”

 _Okay, not the best way to word that_ , Yuuri thought with a closed-eye smile. “No, no Phichit! I meant that in a sort of metaphorical way. His name’s Victor, and we met through his dog believe it or not. He’s a toy poodle too, and I felt so happy and sad, but also relieved. The dog jumped on me and Victor was so concerned if he’d startled me, but it was the opposite. Phichit, I wish you could’ve seen him; he’s adorable, sweet, energetic.”

“The dog or this Victor guy?”

“Ye−” Yuuri scraped his chair back like Phichit was physically there and had slammed his hands on the desk. “Th-the dog, the dog! Makkachin, not Victor! I-I mean, Victor’s just as nice and sweet.”

Phichit chuckled, and Yuuri could only imagine what his expression looked like. “Good. Hope he doesn’t replace me. How’d he save you?”

Yuuri was ready to repeat that day’s event with ease when a loud laugh outside made him freeze up. Phichit calling his name didn’t reach his ears, and Yuuri blurted out a broken excuse and fumbled to mute the call before speeding into the hall. A group of boys lounged beside the large school’s windows or against the walls, some playfully cursing or talking boldly about their teachers. One of them said something, and another laughed much too hard, putting his hand on the comedian’s knee.

Yuuri couldn’t believe it.


	5. Background Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes quiet people really do have a lot to say. They’re just being careful about who they open up to.”

Words left Yuuri. He stared at those bright eyes cozy and warm in happiness, saw the sense of contentment in the relaxed posture and around his lips, and his heart fell silent the more he laughed and smiled. In one swift move blue eyes met brown, and Victor bounced to his feet, grinning as if he were staring at a double rainbow.

“Yuuri! I didn’t know you went to this school. It must be my lucky day. How are you?”

Yuuri couldn’t will his lips to move. His concentration slipped elsewhere and as if stuck underwater, everything was slow and garbled in his ears. Victor’s friends were scanning him like a searchlight, waiting for a response or a smile or just a noise to prove he was with them. He knew had to say something, but what?

Victor didn’t make him any more tense, though, and kept the ball rolling. “You must be tired from the noisy storm. I’m sorry I had to leave so early, but let’s try and not go under any more bridges next time, yes? Oh, and thank you so much for letting me sleep with you!”

Hearing the misunderstanding in person was a hundred times more horrifying than having his mother deliver the same thing. Yuuri’s frantic shaking head and incoherent stuttering did nothing to convince Victor’s muttering friends otherwise.

“Y-you didn’t have to say it like that! It was just sharing a bed for rest, so it was no big deal you know! It wasn’t too cramped for you, was it?” Yuuri added in a low voice just for Victor to hear.

“No, no, I was very comfortable. We should have more sleepovers at your house. Your parents are lovely and I’m sure they wouldn’t mind us sleeping together again.”

If he wasn’t in the hallway, Yuuri would have thrown up on his shoes. He swallowed down the nauseating feel as Victor’s buddies pat his back and gave him a goodbye that might as well have been, “we’ll see you and your _strange_ ways later.”

Yuuri waited until they were out of earshot and even let a couple other students pass him before he turned to Victor. “How come you never told me which school you went to?”

Victor blinked and pointed a finger at himself as if he were being accused of a crime. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. A school is a school.”

“Yes, but if you had told me you were going to my school, that would be different!” Yuuri blinked at the light intensity in his voice and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to shout.”

“Is it shocking that I’m going to your school? Do you not like it?”

“I never said that. It’s not shocking, it’s just… I mean, you met me under weird circumstances and it’s just our luck that we go to the same school. Don’t you think we should, I don’t know, make something a little bigger out of it?”

“Of course! We’d better do our best and keep our grades up!” Victor pat Yuuri hard on the back and headed toward a flight of stairs, waving over his shoulder with an equal amount of energy. “Bye-bye Yuuri! Maybe I’ll visit your class during lunchtime, okay? Don’t slack off!”

“Victor, that wasn’t what I−!” Much like earlier, Yuuri couldn’t will his voice to be louder when he wanted, and Victor was gone. He sighed under his breath, weakly waving at the empty air. “Bye-bye.”

. . . . . . .

The grass was embedded with shoe prints and stringy from thin layers of dew, shining under the sunlight while the afternoon sky flushed blue and gray. Yuuri turned on his third lap, thick sweat soaking his shirt and sneakers bouncing unsteadily on the track. He panted as he wiped the corner of his mouth on his elbow and slowed to a stop, plopping on one of the few patches of soft sun-warmed grass to have an open air lunch.

Lunch had never been stressful for as long as Yuuri had been in school, but the 50/50 promise of Victor visiting his classroom lingered in his head all throughout homeroom and well into his lessons. He couldn’t understand the logic in his brain that twisted and stretched such a simple action into something intimidating, but at the same time he could understand it and could practically see the boy making a scene when he entered the room, and all the girls would probably go gaga for it. Poor Yuuri’s stomach was in gross knots, running off his thoughts hadn’t worked too well, and now he doubted eating would be an option before the day ended.

Still, the brunet opened his bentō box and found a hardboiled egg and cold cuts preparation. Hiroko took pride in making sure her son had all the nutrients he needed, especially considering the effects of mourning it had on Yuuri’s health, and had recently amped up with extra leftovers or a unique design for his lunches.

Yuuri would forever be grateful for her efforts, though something in him always held back in wanting to tell her to calm down by how much food she packed. He was unfortunately a stress eater and had gained a handful of pounds in his slump, and it was incredibly hard to forgive himself whenever his reflection showed the unhealthy consequences every single day.

 _Maybe I’ll join the swim team,_ Yuuri thought, picking over the meats and vegetables. _I do wanna get back to my old and comfortable weight. But then that means taking my shirt off._ He shuddered at the thought of being half naked around other guys who would definitely be skinnier than him. His self-esteem walloped the idea into oblivion. _Maybe not. I could run every morning._

He placed a few greens in his mouth, the salty-sour taste of the pickled vegetables giving him lock jaw but providing nutrition nonetheless. He was about to move on to the egg when distant shouting and shrill little giggles sounded from the front of the track. When Yuuri turned to look, he all but choked.

Victor was jogging on the field surrounded by three other upperclassmen, and judging by the girls’ reaction to their presence, they were either popular love interests or very well known. Half the attention seemed to be mostly on Victor as he waved and even winked, getting a larger and more bashful reaction from the females. Yuuri bent his head down each time he passed, hoping he would only be there for a couple minutes and head back inside.

But like a rebel would, his eyes ignored what his conscience wanted to avoid. In those thighs was enough power to endure maybe six laps, every footfall looked determined and supple, every movement like it had been practiced often so Victor could be perfect without trying. His muscles rippled beneath his shirt any time the breeze he created for himself fanned it up, and at one point when he stopped to bend over to tie his shoe—

Yuuri blinked hard and forced his head down to his own shoes, not wanting to appear like some creepy pervert for ogling. It felt wrong and kind of invasive, but in order to not spiral things out of control, he closed his eyes and told that wired brain of his that he was _just admiring, yes, nothing wrong with finding someone nice or athletic or a good runner_.

“Yuuri?” The teen in question shrieked out an octave too high and clamped both hands over his mouth, bentō clattering to the ground but thankfully not spilling. “It is you! I’d recognize that chubby belly anywhere.”

Yuuri chewed the corner of his mouth as Victor took a seat beside him, and he could feel the curious and envious gazes from the girls.

“I told you I’d visit you for lunchtime,” Victor went on. “Aren’t you surprised?”

“ _Mhm_.”

“I didn’t know your class all went out to the field to eat. I would love to spend lunch in the cool breeze, maybe on a rooftop looking over the city. Imagine the view! I think I’ll do that. I know how much− oh, is that broccoli? I hear it’s very healthy. Could I have one?”

 _Anything to get you to please stop rambling_ , Yuuri’s conscience whispered as he shoved the little box towards Victor’s face, getting him to blink more than once before he chuckled.

“I don’t want to touch your food. Could you feed it to me?”

Yuuri wanted to explode right then and there. If Victor were a friend, he didn’t think he’d mind at all. And it wasn’t that Yuuri thought Victor _couldn’t_ be friend material. He seemed like an alright guy, sweet enough, and could be easily impressed. It was just that they were still in that rocky, super weird acquaintance stage where a relation had sort of been forced due to a storm, a dog, and a sister’s forgetfulness for an air mattress.

Not wanting to be trapped in his thoughts longer than he should, Yuuri picked up a small piece of broccoli and aimed it for Victor’s mouth. The gray-haired boy smiled, gingerly took Yuuri’s wrist that was noticeably shaking, and adjusted it even higher to have the broccoli fit in his mouth. Yuuri could’ve sworn he heard the gossip of his peers, and his chest numbed from the unnecessary attention.

“ _Ah_ , very delicious. Thank you Yuuri.”

Victor squeezed Yuuri’s shoulder twice and returned to the trio he had walked out with, soon going over to talk with a group of girls shyly calling him over. Yuuri looked down at where Victor had touched and felt a warmth still settled there. It made his heart drum in, oddly not embarrassment this time, but with some kind of familiarity. It was strange how this particular touch − as opposed to being straight up _cuddled_ last night out of the blue − made Yuuri rethink a few things about Victor.

If the latter actually saw the two as good friends when it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet, then Yuuri supposed it couldn’t hurt to see what made him look at Victor in a different light than everyone else. This choice would definitely guide him onto several paths, some beautiful and others probably…eccentric.

And that would require less timidity and a lot more willingness.

 _If only it were that easy_ , the very timid student thought with a sigh, going back to his lunch with a forgotten appetite once again.


	6. Expressionism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.”—William Wordsworth

If Yuuri were to say he craved quiet and private days above anything else, he was sure someone would paint him out to be an introvert. Something inside always encouraged him to speak up, to say that yes he loved quiet days, the ones of still telephones and silent clocks. He loved the natural sounds that sailed in the breeze, creating a song just for him to understand.

But there were other songs that put him at ease, too. The gentle hum of outside AC’s and the passing of cars on the street splashing rain-slicked roads, or the high notes of stereos, horns, and laughter over in downtown. Yuuri guessed that to someone unaware of his usual silent episodes, it would be quite the sight to see that these noises were therapeutic for him. He was a city boy in his heart and these were simply the sounds of home sweet home.

Then again, on those quiet days when adults left for work and students could enjoy a weekend break from school, it was a chance to enjoy pottering about and see what was new.

With music in his ears and the sky for company, Yuuri slowly put his small Friday world in order. He felt he needed it after discovering just four days ago that Victor had been enrolled in his school, and who knows for how long! How had the two never encountered one another before? Yuuri assumed it was due to the upperclassmen status, yet from the first day he spotted Victor as well as watching him throughout the week, he gave any classmate attention. There wasn’t a day where Yuuri didn’t catch the social butterfly hanging out with a first year class in the courtyard or having lunch with some giddy senior girls.

Victor did not disclude any year, but knowing this clashed want, worry, and relief in Yuuri’s nerves. Each time he saw Victor with someone new, or any time the latter smiled at him or tried calling him over, Yuuri would pretend he didn’t see or hear and carry on about his day. He wasn’t trying to be rude, because he had promised himself he would try and communicate better with Victor. Yuuri simply needed some time getting used to the new guy in his world.

And oh, he tried his best − from awkward conversation starters to stammering requests of Victor joining him for study hall. Then someone would always come along, a guy with superior social skills or a cute girl, and just as quick as Yuuri’s botched attempts, Victor would be pulled away and he didn’t feel up for trying again.

 _It’s a record_ , Yuuri thought, hiking his face mask up and tightening his coat, _of how much of a weirdo I am when it comes to talking with others._

The winding sidewalk eventually led to a wide cemented-tiled walkway, transitioning from urban streets to a sprawling maze of century-old traditional houses, indie boutiques, and galleries. Shopkeepers shouted out offers at the top of their lungs to attract customers, and further down a seasonal breeze swirled in the scents of meat roasting on skewers, flowers, and opened sacks of nuts and dried fruits.

Yuuri blended in easily with the organized chaos, nostalgia adding in to the wonderful smells. Every other Friday after school or on a weekend, he, his parents and sister would occupy the rural square, moving between stall holders and taking their time. True, many of the better things would be long gone, but they’d take whatever they could.

No solo shopping would be done, as Yuuri only wanted to look, and he had to give it to everyone that despite the outrageous storm, the neighborhood gave off an unbothered atmosphere. Yuuri supposed it was the mindset of the small island − nobody liked twisting something bad into something much worse. The storm had happened and it was frightening, yes, but there was no reason to dwell on it and stress.

Yuuri knew the consequences of stress on one’s body and mind. Checking his lock screen on his phone was a constant reminder of the unpleasant feeling. A pained smile curled at the corners of his mouth and he glanced up at the sky.

“I hope you had a good night’s sleep buddy,” he muttered. Anytime he spoke of the late pup, there was almost always a cold temperature that chilled his legs. His mother liked to say it was Vicchan showing his loyalty at his master’s call and letting him know he was doing okay up there. “I had a, uh… Well, I’ve had an interesting week, to say the least. Can you tell?”

_And have you seen Victor? He’s really weird, but harmless I guess. He’s a nice distraction sometimes, but I’ll never forget you Vicchan. Rest well._

A soft blubbering-type sound caught Yuuri’s attention, and for a second he thought it was a dog. Instead it was a blond little boy who seemed shorter than average for his age, struggling to see over one of the countertops. He was completely fixated on the clothing section of Hasetsu’s marketplace, specifically towards the jackets.

Yuuri smiled when he made a grab for the lowest thing, but even that seemed too high for him. “Is this what you want?” He asked, handing over the clothing hooked hoodie. “This looks really cool. You like jackets?”

The boy stared at Yuuri as if he had spit in his direction, then his eyes narrowed and his head tilted. He muttered something but Yuuri couldn’t hear, though he wouldn’t be getting a chance to know what it was when an older man stepped through the crowd and placed a large hand on the boy’s hair, ruffling it hard and throwing out a foreign string of… Some type of language Yuuri couldn’t understand.

He backed away, not wanting to get involved in presumed family matters, and returned to the sidewalks leading out to the city. Not to go home just yet, though; he’d let his parents know of his whereabouts once he got to his new destination.

For now, Yuuri needed a cold pick-me-up.


	7. Asymmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Distance means nothing when someone means everything.”

The frigid, air-conditioned blast moved in only to meet the warmth of Yuuri’s arms, causing him to shudder hard as it washed over his skin again and again, only to be met by the beat of his excited heart. In that frozen place, that ice-world, the boy stood there open-eyed as if a palace within would arise by magic. Every color that could tumble from a box of pastels reflected on the surface ever so gently and gave it a feeling of motion from the floor to the ceiling and doubtless beyond.

 _It really has been a while since I’ve last been here_ , Yuuri thought incredulously, heading to the front counter. _I remember people would look at me with the craziest eyes when I didn’t wear a jacket here. I was so used to it._

Soon the back of a brunette’s head got Yuuri to smile as she had yet to notice him by the counter. She moved with purpose, fast and swift to organize the skating rink necessities, and mumbled to herself as if she were checking off a mental checklist.

Yuuri cleared his throat. “Is now the right season to visit, Miss?”

The girl turned around, the slightly irritated pout for being interrupted quickly snapping into surprise and then a thrilled grin within seconds. She let out a warbled screech and just about broke Yuuri’s back by jumping in his arms.

“Yuuri! Oh–!” She pulled back, giving her good friend a onceover before burying herself back in his chubby body. “Oh my god, it’s been so long! You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Good, that’s good, never change your smile. How are things with school? How’s your mother doing?”

“Everything’s good, thank you.”

Just like his mother, Yuuri’s bubbly childhood friend, Yuuko Nishigori, could _not_ control her hyper tongue in certain situations. She’d fire questions too quickly to answer without much thought and wasn’t the type of girl to repeat herself often, wanting the 411 instantly. The only difference was that Yuuri had grown up with it for almost nine years and could tell when it would come. Hiroko, though, was often unpredictable and much more embarrassing.

Yuuri shed his jacket and pulled down his face mask, slowly taking in the rink with a growing smile. “It has been a while. Hope I didn’t come at a bad time.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re always welcome. Check this out”—Yuuko pulled Yuuri in another direction—“we’re getting some new skates later this week and I thought as a sort of goodbye to the old but gold ones, some people would love to skate in them one last time. It’s silly, I know, but the first person I thought of who’d actually like the sound of that was you.”

“Me?”

“That’s what you came here for, right? To skate?”

“I mean, I was only going to check the place out, but—”

“Perfect! And no buts; you’re skating and that’s final.” Yuuko took the schoolbag, coat, and mask from the boy with surprising strength and ran off. “I’ll store these somewhere safe! When I get back, I better see Yuuri on ice.”

On that ice world, the ever-present cold was Yuuri’s friend, he had to remember that as he shakily took off his glasses. He remembered moving as if in a dream on the ice with Yuuko when they were eight years younger, and how nothing else mattered and no other thoughts came. They would compete for fun, spin together until dizzy, or show off new moves they had learned. The ice, much like it did now, almost rippled from the brilliant rays of the ceiling lights. It wanted to welcome Yuuri back after school and personal issues had hindered him from the forgotten hobby, but hesitation was squeezing his heart like a stress ball.

 _Please don’t let me fall_ , he silently prayed as he double knotted the skates. _I just want to shake off some nerves and then I’ll be done. Please, I don’t want to hurt myself. Not again._

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri put one foot in front of the other, the solid ice beneath whisking confidence and heat away, leaving him pale even though his blood still ran warm. Things were a snail’s pace and filled with an ominous brittle silence at first. Yuuri fumbled like a baby bird trying to fly for the first time as he struggled to remember the balance from long ago. His nose was red and numb from his jitters, but he took in another deep breath and knew that _everything is fine, **you’re** fine. Just let the ice guide you_.

The tension in Yuuri’s legs soon evaporated, his heart beat less loudly in his ears, and the muscles in his face relaxed. Hearing the familiar scraping of blades on ice brought a transitory evocation of holidays at the Ice Castle, joy with friends and family, and just living his life happily. A buzz of electricity flowed through Yuuri’s veins, and before he knew it iced paths awaited his feet and adrenaline kicked in. He dared to invite in that childish glee he’d had performing all kinds of jumps and breathtaking spins with Yuuko, allowing it to become intense to the point that it bubbled out of him into laughter.

The positivity stuffed Yuuri’s ego and his smile extended to his eyes as he ended in a clumsy but passionate flourish, giving room for Yuuko’s sharp claps in the distance. He chuckled and bowed the best he could, wondering the last time he’d gotten that much exercise or had that much fun.

“Yuuri, I’ve never seen anything like that before!”

Yuuri’s whole body paralyzed in shock. That wasn’t Yuuko speaking, and it hadn’t been Yuuko that applauded. He didn’t need his glasses to see who was speaking, and quite frankly he wanted to keep them off and go home.

“It was like you were someone entirely different. You were very good!”

Like he was stuck in molasses, Yuuri inched around to face the undeniable silver blob of Victor. “I…I did my best,” he panted out, lifting a bit of his shirt to wipe his face. “But it felt really…it felt really good to get back on the ice. Thank you.”

“Oh, you should really think about coming here more often. Yuuri, that was incredible.”

“No, I’m no pro. I haven’t done it since I was seven.” Yuuri saw Victor moving off the ice, and he averted his gaze as the movement made him sweat more. “I know you said you had a skating rink in Saint Petersburg, so I’m glad you found the one here in Hasetsu. You must get homesick, right?”

“All the time. But now I don’t need to worry.” Yuuri couldn’t tell which kicked off his internal screaming first – Victor being almost chest to chest in proximity, Victor gently taking his chin so he’d look him in the eye, or the almost enigmatic smile shining on Victor’s lips and swirling in his eyes. “Seeing you skate with laughter and being so free gives me motivation to start practicing again. I think I’d like it very much if you were my partner from now on, Yuuri.”

“ _P-partner?_ ”

“ _Victor!_ ”

The sudden distraction would’ve made Yuuri grateful, but it instead amped up his apprehension as he squinted towards the opening of the rink. There were three other blobs, one he could recognize as Yuuko, and a shorter and tall one right behind her. With trembling hands, Yuuri put his glasses back on and watched as Victor headed towards an adult and child, and Yuuri immediately recognized them from the market.

Up close, the adult looked a bit too old to be the child’s father, so Yuuri assumed he was a great uncle or grandfather. At his side stood the grumpy looking boy who couldn’t have been older than eight or nine years old. A dark hoodie was concealing his platinum blond hair, and a large roaring tiger head was stitched on the center of the material. His eyes alone were enough to make Yuuri’s stomach twist.

“This little one came rushing inside because he saw… I’m guessing you’re Victor?” Yuuko started to explain, pointing to the gray-haired student. “Yuuri, do you know any of them?”

Victor put a hand over his heart. “You have not told her about your good friend yet Yuuri? I am hurt.”

“And dramatic,” the child stated, sharing the same accent Victor had. Were they related in some way? Could he be Victor’s brother and this man their grandfather? He couldn’t remember if Victor was an only child or not.

Not wanting to get stuck in thought, Yuuri anxiously rubbed his wrists and forced his gaze on only his female friend. “Um, Yuuko? This is Victor, someone I ran into a while ago and found out I go to school with. Victor, this is my best friend Yuuko. She works part-time here.”

“I was a skating maniac when I was a little girl,” Yuuko explained with a smile, shaking Victor’s hand. “Getting to work with an old hobby of mine and seeing the customers that share it always puts a smile on my face.”

“I can only imagine how a flower such as yourself held beauty and grace on the ice. You must skate for me, _da?_ ”

Victor kissed Yuuko’s hand, earning three various reactions – a dark scarlet blush from Yuuko, a sound of disgust from the little boy, and a sigh from Yuuri at his friend’s flustered nature. He had nothing against it, after all he himself was the same way if someone so much as complimented his shoes. Though if there was one other thing Yuuko obsessed with aside from skating and cute children, it was boys.

“Oh, you’re too much, stop. And who’s this?” Yuuko smiled and crouched down in front of the boy. “Hi there. What’s your name?”

The boy blinked and looked up at his guardian. “Why is she talking like I’m three?”

“Be nice,” the older man encouraged, gently pushing him forward. He tipped his flat beret and smiled around his two-toned beard and mustache. “Call me Nikolai. This little firework is my grandson. Pleased to meet you.”

“He has a Yuri as well,” Victor added, squeezing the kid’s nose. “He and his grandfather have been neighbors of mine ever since the little kitten came looking for me from a whole other country over.”

“I did not look all for you! You lie!”

Yuuri watched in both curiosity and fascination as the second Yuri and Victor started talking in Russian, with occasional inputs from Yuri’s grandfather here and there. He was dying to know what they were saying, a tidbit of him really hoping they weren’t talking smack about him or Yuuko.

“Anyways”—Victor reverted to a language all could understand and nudged Yuri #2 forward again—“my little kitten apologizes for his behavior. He’s about to turn nine and is becoming very grown up, wouldn’t you say?”

Yuuko smiled wider at the boy, who was mumbling about the nickname given. “All’s forgiven. But it’s going to be a little confusing referring to you as Yuri if you ever want to visit.” She tilted her head to the side, tapping a finger to her cheek before gasping. “Yurio!”

The eight year old’s head snapped back in horror. “Why do I have the nickname? Make him have it!” He suddenly shouted, pointing at Yuuri and making him jump. “And who says I’m coming back?”

“Well…” Yuuko placed her hands on her knees, leaning down closer. “Would it help if I had snacks in the back for specially good visitors?”

Yurio squinted and went quiet for a moment. “What kind of snacks?”

Yuuko chuckled and led the now interested child off while Nikolai followed to supervise, promising to be back, and leaving Victor and Yuuri alone. The nerves were too thick to swallow down, and the more Yuuri kept stealing glances Victor’s way, the louder he felt his heart thud. He could have easily rushed off with the true excuse of having to be home to do homework, but his feet weren’t as active as they had been on the ice. The feeling was creeping in his throat and drying it up fast. Soon, he wouldn’t even be able to utter a single—

“Yuuri?” The brunet jumped at the feel of Victor’s cool hand pressed to his forehead. “You haven’t been under any more bridges, have you? You’re warm.”

“No, no I didn’t− no, I’m fine.” Yuuri cleared his throat with difficulty, avoiding Victor’s intent gaze and wishing he had gone off with Yuuko. “Um, actually, Victor? You said that boy had looked for you from another country. What’d you mean by that?”

Victor chuckled and put a cheek to his hand, exhaling almost blissfully. “ _Ah_ , my own little Yuri. Ever since I moved to Japan, it’s as if he suddenly had an infatuation over my location. As soon as I was enrolled in your school, he was on the next plane here with his grandfather. I can’t remember why though, but I’m happy to see a familiar face.”

Yuuri nodded, still confused over how a high schooler could maintain a relationship with someone nine years his junior. Friendships were odd to him, but that didn’t mean he was opposed to it.

“How long have you known him?” He wound up asking.

“Hard to remember, but long enough for him to look up to me like a role model.” Victor smiled. “He can be moody at times, but he’s really the sweetest kitten you’ve ever seen.”

“Stop calling me that!” Speak of the devil, Yurio had returned with handfuls of candies and cookies Yuuko personally held for whenever kids would visit. “I’m no baby animal, got it?”

“You sneeze and shed just like one,” Nikolai countered. “But I believe that is all the time we’ll spend here. We don’t want to intrude. Victor, why don’t you come with us for lunch? Could you show us the exit, Miss Yuuko?”

“Sure. Oh, and Yuuri,” Yuuko added over her shoulder as she led the trio off, “I’ll give you a ride home afterwards, okay?”

Yuuri nodded and waved everyone off. That is until Yurio slowed his steps and was soon left behind as Yuuko, his grandpa, and Victor headed for the main doors, unaware of his lack of presence. Yuuri blinked as the boy walked up to him, his expression sharp and twice as moody.

“You”—He pointed at Yuuri, eyes narrowing—“you are who Victor won’t stop yapping about. It’s annoying! I don’t care what you are to him. Know that he’s been with me longer and he likes me more. He doesn’t like little pigs.” The finger pointed to Yuuri’s noticeable growing gut. “There’s only _one_ Yuri, got that dummy?”

Without another word, the boy ran off. Yuuri had never been so confused in his entire life. Had he just been intimidated by an eight year old?


	8. Collage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nothing can harm you as much as your own thoughts unguarded.” —Gautama Buddha

It was strange and almost amusing how much time Yuuri spent thinking about Yurio’s warning from Friday. There could only be one Yuri? He didn’t know how common the name was, so that was unfair. Victor knowing and liking the little boy more? The first part was a bit more reasonable, since Victor had said that Yurio and his grandfather were previous neighbors in Russia and knew each other before his move to Japan.

But Yuuri wasn’t entirely convinced on who Victor liked more and it just didn’t seem right to twist it all into some competition of affection. Victor could like whoever he wanted, be friends with whoever he wanted. End of story.

And yet as an early Sunday morning danced out with the peachy horizon, Yuuri couldn’t help but rethink Yurio’s bitter words, growing more confused and bubbling with nerves deep inside that he was actually feeling scared by an eight year old. He was much too in thought to sit still, too antsy for breakfast, and strangely conflicted when his mind redirected any minuscule detail in his room back to Victor.

His lampshade in the corner? It was almost the same color as Victor’s eyes. The way the bedspread crinkled? It reminded Yuuri of how the tiny corners of the Russian’s mouth twisted in that carefree smile. The way the yawning sun flooded past Yuuri’s curtains, creating a perfectly _round_ silhouette of the flaming star?

Yuuri blinked hard back into reality and sighed, laying gently on the edge of his messy bed and hugging one of his pillows. It was times like this he wished Vicchan was still alive. Whenever the pup sensed his owner was feeling blue or on the brink of a panic attack, he’d nudge his wet nose along his toes or bop the back of his thighs.

“I’m right here and not going anywhere,” he seemed to reassure from his actions alone.

Yuuri’s smile trembled behind the pillow, and his eyes shook in place until he thought his glasses fogged up from his tears. He sat up to wipe them and left his room, the floorboards of the small hallway protesting under the sudden weight until they stopped and Yuuri was in a different room. It used to be a spacious broom closet but had been renovated so many times it was open to the family to be whatever their minds set it to be. Currently, it served as Yuuri’s sanctuary and Vicchan’s grave, if you will.

A humble shrine sat polished in the center with a picture of a young and smiling Yuuri holding the chocolate-colored pup also cheesing for the camera, tongue hanging out his mouth and tail up in mid-wag. Vicchan’s silver dog tag sat up proudly beside the picture, making his owner’s saddened smile perk up a bit.

“I wish you could tell me what I should do, Vicchan,” Yuuri muttered, sitting on his knees. He bowed his head low, closing his eyes. “I miss you like crazy, and it’s like you were my conscience sometimes. You always knew how to cheer me up, always knew how to get my mind off things. So, how do I get my mind off Victor? Do you know what I am to him?”

Saying it out loud in an empty room in front of his late dog’s shrine, Yuuri felt extremely awkward after the words had escaped. He cleared his throat like they had physically caused him discomfort.

“I thought he was offended when I hadn’t told Yuuko he was my friend, but he may have been fooling around as usual. I don’t really see him as a friend yet, but we should be comfortable enough with each other, right? He goes to my school, he’s been to my house and to the skating rink… Heck, we shared a bed!”

Yuuri’s face warmed up at the memory and he slapped his cheeks to get himself to stop thinking about how close Victor had been, how he had cuddled him out of the blue, or how happy he’d been sleeping over.

Or how that brief yet odd dream occurred—

“ _Ah!_ ” Yuuri slapped his cheeks harder like he was trying to escape a nightmare. “Stop, stop it Katsuki. You’re weirding yourself out.”

“You’re weirding me out, too,” a teasing voice came from behind. Mari chuckled as Yuuri jumped. “Remember, I’m not the only one that lives here.”

“I think you’re also the only one who doesn’t knock,” Yuuri tried to tease back over his slightly pounding heart. He gave Vicchan his usual morning prayer, then approached his older sister to give her a hug. “I’m glad you can still visit whenever you can.”

“Yeah, college has been hectic but fun. Nice independence here and there.”

Mari gestured for Yuuri to follow, and the two headed downstairs for their outdoors shoes and out to their back porch. The sky was filled with warm shades of orange and pink, along with hints of baby storm clouds far out in the distance. Yuuri hoped that if there was going to be rain, it would come in gentle drizzles and not rage down on the inner city. The siblings leaned against the railing, drinking in the quiet for a moment before Yuuri was the first to speak.

“So college is really different from high school?”

“Definitely. But like I said, the independence sits well.” Mari took out a lone cigarette and a lighter from her coat pocket. “I do get spouts of homesickness occasionally, but I’m lucky to live pretty close to home.”

“Do you miss getting to wake up to Mom’s cooking?”

“And Dad’s singing when he cleans the house. Yep, miss it every day.” Mari sighed out a puff of smoke, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. “I do make time for personal things, like dating and spending time with new friends. I’ve been job hunting too, so no worries Yuuri, I’m no hermit.”

Yuuri laughed a bit under his breath. He was glad to hear his sister doing so well and to hear how even though she was college bound, she still had a love for home in her heart and wouldn’t trade it for anything else. The pair spent another moment or two in the quiet until Mari asked an unexpected question.

“So little bro, anyone made you feel like a real man yet?”

Yuuri almost choked on the air. “M-Mari! Why would you− how could you say that?”

She shrugged like she had simply asked for the time. “I’m your sister. It’s my job to be nosy, and I know that whenever you get secluded”—She gave a slight poke to Yuuri’s stomach—“or you’re feeling peckish, something big is always on your mind.”

“Not…no, th-that’s not always true,” Yuuri defended weakly, protecting his gut. “Sometimes I just want quiet to study or take a nap.”

“Yuuri, you’re lying like a lumpy rug." Mari ruffled the brunet’s hair, bringing his head forward to kiss it. “I understand if you don’t feel like sharing something so personal, but hey, that doesn’t mean I’m any less curious to hear it. Just innocent, harmless curiosity here.”

“I know.”

Yuuri rubbed his hands together, catching a glimpse of his mother’s garden. Two flowers, one blue and one pink hydrangea, were leaning close to one another. He vaguely remembered reading about color symbolism for various flowers for middle school and how blue could represent apologetic and fidgety nature, and how pink expressed a heartfelt and emotional persona. Yuuri didn’t think nature could unintentionally describe his and Victor’s behavior around one another any better.

“Someone _is_ on my mind,” he eventually murmured, eyes still on the flora. “Not in the way you think, though. He’s kind of weird and can be really loud sometimes. Really dramatic too. I don’t know if he knows it, but he invades personal space and gets hyper, like a new puppy. But then,” Yuuri added with a flickering smile, “then he can be super nice and sweet. The nicest guy you’ll ever meet, Mari! He helps you without you even realizing it, and from what I’ve seen, he can be incredibly selfless, smart, cute and—”

 _Did I just call Victor cute?_ Yuuri thought with wide eyes and a spreading blush.

Mari chuckled again around the light smoke cloud, flicking the nicotine stick faintly on the grass before pulling it back to not disturb the flowers.

“I don’t gotta ask who this lucky girl is and why you haven’t invited her to dinner yet, so I’ll recorrect myself − who’s the lucky guy, and why haven’t you invited him to dinner?”

“It’s not that simple!”

He didn’t say “he’s just a friend,” he didn’t say “I don’t like him like _that_ ” or even “I’m not falling for a guy.” Yuuri heard his mouth spit out that inviting Victor over to dinner wasn’t that simple. Not because of the fact that Victor would reject (he would scream yes before the full question even popped out); it was because Yuuri would need a good deal of time in advance to work up the nerve to voluntarily invite Victor to his house.

Mari took a long final inhale of her cigarette, staring wordlessly at her brother before curling out the smoke through both her mouth and nose. She put it out with the banister and shoved her hands in her pocket, nodding towards the door.

“Guess we should stop talking all mushy before we lose our appetites, yeah? I’ll get the eggs and veggies, you set the table.”

Yuuri didn’t instantly follow Mari back inside and stood frozen, replaying in his mind how he had explained Victor to her. _The nicest guy you’ll ever meet! He helps you without you even realizing it, and from what I’ve seen, he can be incredibly selfless, smart, cute._

Yuuri didn’t think he could unconsciously think about someone’s attractiveness or even accidentally let it slip out. He was too conservative and choosy about his words, making a bad habit of overthinking at times before he spoke. But was it a slip-up calling Victor cute? Was it something Yuuri wasn’t supposed to think about or say?

Victor was handsome, and a majority of the girls at school could completely agree. Was Yuuri weird for finding him handsome, as well? The way his eyes held a childish yet contagious energy made people smile and laugh, not groan or cringe away. Yuuri found that nice, that was all, nice. Victor’s long and soft-looking hair was the most beautiful and fitting thing on his head, and Yuuri had openly thought this when he’d spent the night. He saw no shame in finding someone’s hair to be nice. Victor’s voice could soothe anyone to sleep or wake them up in a pleasant way, and his smile…

_You’re thinking too much, stop, pause, just breathe._

Yuuri sighed under his breath and put a hand to his cheek, the soft flesh warm in another rosy blush. Maybe all he needed was a good breakfast eaten with his family, and then he’d go for a walk or visit the park. He stepped back into the house and shut the door, leaning on the wood as a hesitant laugh ghosted past his lips.

_Oh Victor…you are so weird but so interesting to me._


	9. Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The heart wants what it wants.” —Woody Allen

The weekend smoothed by like morning dew on flower petals. There were a couple days at school where Yuuri’s timid conscience took the reins and steered him out of Victor’s line of sight. His mind worked so strangely and he hated it; one week he wanted to work up the nerve and have a full conversation with Victor, he truly did. But then he chickened out next week, wondering what would he talk about? How long would he talk, and would he lose Victor’s interest for someone else if he didn’t engage in something the social boy wanted to talk about?

Yuuri was no mind reader when it came to things of this nature, and he unfortunately couldn’t go to a friend or his parents for any advice. Phichit would tease him like there was no tomorrow; Yuuko would go on and on about various topics to indulge in, how and when to say them, where to start and finish; and without a doubt, Hiroko and Toshiya would give their son the typical “just be yourself” spiel.

If Victor had noticed a visible and verbal absence of Yuuri, he was very adamant about not doing anything about it. And, try as he might ignore it, Yuuri was slightly hurt by a lack of doing on Victor’s part. He of course didn’t expect him to rush up to him, take his hands, and rant about how he was being ignored or if Yuuri was feeling sick or whatever it was that Victor could blurt out a mile a minute. No, Yuuri knew that so many girls and boys rushed away from anything they were doing to get his attention by flirting or offering a spot in a quick match of volleyball, so Victor was socially swamped.

But Yuuri did expect (and hope, but he would never admit this to himself) for Victor to at least make a private effort. Randomly visit his house with a homemade pork cutlet bowl, run into him at the mall, mysteriously find his Instagram and send him a DM asking if he wanted to go ice skating. Yuuri didn’t know if this made him sound like a hypocrite or needy wishing for Victor to make the first move half the time.

He confused himself on a daily basis, and he honestly didn’t know how he had friends by how quirky he could act. Though he was grateful nonetheless and grateful for them in his life. Always and forever.

Now the leaves in the park had had signs of their first autumnal blush for a while, and though the path was wet from a late night rain, the sky above promised no more of it for a while. In an hour or so the path would dry, the leaves would perk up, and there would be color for all to see. Feeling the fresh air on his face was a much needed pick-me-up for Yuuri after the odd week he’d had.

He adjusted his windbreaker’s collar further over his neck once the breeze picked up and nipped at every inch of exposed skin. He sighed out a blend of tiredness and relief as he sat down on a bench, stretching out his back and legs. Aside from near encounters with Victor in the hallway or on the field, Yuuri’s school days were fairly tolerable. He had opened up a bit more to the students in his grade level, he ran along with the track every once in a while to keep his weight steady after school (the scale that morning said he ran off 7 pounds!), and he’d even worked up the nerve to sign up for his school’s literary magazine. He was no Van Gogh, but Yuuri felt his writing was enough to leave a modest impression on his peers.

Smiling at the thought, the brunet pulled out a little notebook and pen from his coat pockets, turning to a blank page to practice like his senior had advised.

_“There’s a sweet and steady sense of joy, there are browns and oranges and marigold that are a gift to the eye. The season of fall dances with the canopies of flame; it’s so cold but the trees are on fire.”_

Yuuri’s boots bopped in their own seasonal dance, his loopy handwriting quite a joy to reread. The quiet, in or outside, always set him in such a tranquil mood that could never disturb—

“Yuuri!”

He almost tumbled off the bench and hurriedly shoved the notebook back in his pocket like he wasn’t supposed to have it out in the first place. He had no chance to respond when his hands were abruptly taken in a pair of thick tan gloves and he was forced to stand, the brown and orange and marigold world spinning around his eyes.

“I haven’t seen you in so long and you hardly speak to me anymore at school! Where have you been? Are you alright? Have you got a fever?”

“N-no,” Yuuri answered at the wave of worry spilling out of Victor. He grimaced and shook his head, his balance still fashionably late to catch up with him. “I’m fine. I’ve just been focusing on other school things that—”

“You _have_ caught something.” Victor pointed to the fitted face mask covering Yuuri’s mouth and nose. He bopped an eyebrow, the grip on his hands tightening. “Have you been hiding under bridges in the rain again, Yuuri? You know that’s not good for you. You can talk to me, you know.”

Yuuri’s mouth was malfunctioning at the dissatisfied tone. “No, no, no! Fine, I really am fine Victor! I’m just sensitive to the cold, so I have to wear masks in the winter and fall. I’m not sick, I promise.”

Victor raised his other eyebrow, looking unconvinced. Before Yuuri could explain in another way, the gray-haired student’s hands had slid his mask down and pressed to his chubby cheeks. Both stood still in the middle of the quiet park, bright and dark eyes trained solely on the other. Yuuri didn’t think he could look away even if he wanted to. Did he want to?

Victor’s eyes showed the kind of gentle concern Yuuri’s grandfather used to have, and while his feelings weren’t as visible at the moment, Yuuri could tell the settling emotion in Victor’s face and the previous tone of his voice held enough clues that he cared a good deal for the Japanese boy. Why the compassion had come in the form of a pair of hands on the face and how unexpected it had been both baffled and warmed Yuuri to the core.

 _Victor must be a naturally caring person_ , he thought, the boy’s gloved fingers softly brushing over his scarlet-threaded cheeks. _But…it still feels strange when he does things like this to me._

Victor continued caressing, smiling in that contagious and sneaky way that made Yuuri wonder if he had heard his thoughts. “Is this better for you?” He asked.

Fearing his voice would crack or he’d stumble over his words, Yuuri nodded once. He didn’t sense any teasing behind Victor’s actions or his question. He sounded genuine, concerned even.

“Victor?” Yuuri cleared his throat the best he could, licking his lips that were suddenly dry. “How come you’re so nice to me?”

Victor narrowed his eyes. “You want me to be mean and cruel? Why would I do that?”

“Oh no, no, that’s not exactly what I mean. I just, well… This is going to sound kind of sad and pathetic, b-but I can’t remember how long it’s been since I felt a bit brighter inside. Not really whole, but not as broken as I was when you found me. Ever since you came to me by that bridge and offered me your umbrella, and then you walked me home and were so happy to stay the night…

“You didn’t have to be so nice, but you were. When I kind of snapped at you for not telling me we went to the same school, you still tried to come to my classroom or look around for me during lunch. I stuck in the shadows because, well, all that attention made me feel funny inside. A good and strange kind of funny, though. It made me really happy to know people could care for strangers like how you care about me, and it got me thinking i-if… Well, what if—”

“Yuuri.”

The way Victor interrupted a second time threw him off guard. His tone was light and his hands were still on Yuuri’s face. “You are ranting, and I think I know why. Are you asking me,” he started, an almost Cheshire grin on his lips, “to be even closer to you? Like something of a partner?”

Pink swapped for a dark crimson, and Yuuri’s eyes went small behind his glasses. “A skating partner?” He squeaked out.

Victor chuckled. “You’re so cute.”

“I-I… You misunderstood what I was- Victor, I didn’t mean…!”

Victor laughed with all his heart, finally removing his hands. “ _Ah_ , you’re all red like tomato Yuuri. You’re so cute.”

 _He…did he just call me cute? Did he call me that twice?_ Yuuri fiddled with the strands of his face mask behind his ear, not sure how to take the compliment after having just been asked if he basically wanted to be involved in a deeper way. Maybe he was twisting this around way too much and overthinking as usual. Yes, that was it, his brain was acting completely unnecessary and _everything would be fine, Victor is just messing around as usual._

“I’m a little confused by your question,” Yuuri eventually admitted, looking down to his feet. “I mean, I don’t want to keep ducking behind desks when I’m awkward at school trying to talk to you. If you wanna be friends with me Victor, I’d like that.”

“Then we won’t have to be quiet anymore, _da?_ Come”—Victor took Yuuri’s hand and guided him off to the walking trail—“we will make progress.”

“Progress? What are you talking about?” _Is this a date? It can’t be a date! But what if it is a date?_ “V-Victor please, where are we going?”

Victor smiled over his shoulder, and in the blink of an eye time almost stopped for the anxious Yuuri Katsuki. “I’m taking you out of course, and then we’ll see what your views of me are after that.”


	10. Emphasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No one ever fell in love without being a little brave.” —Mark Tomasello

Yuuri felt like a badly sore thumb as he glanced around the eatery.

It looked like a place where you had to book two months in advance, not the kind of spot you could get a table on impulse. Large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, and dark walnut tables dotted under the high ceiling. There was even delicate live piano music near a small lounge area with plush couches, oval coffee tables, and tea served from ceramic teapots. The air mingled from fresh wine to meaty aromas from the grill, and yet despite everything inside being so fancy, everyone inside was dressed casually and looked relaxed.

“Um, Victor? Are you sure it’s okay to be here?” Yuuri looked down at their flower decorated table, holding a menu looking spiffier than need be. “This isn’t really a place I’d go to on a Wednesday, and everything looks super expensive. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“That’s fine. We can arrange something.”

“Really Victor, this isn’t necessary. You didn’t have to take me out. I…”

Yuuri bit his lip, holding back an _I feel uncomfortable_ just in time. It wasn’t his intention to be rude. After all, Victor had invited him as a treat for food, albeit vaguely and so suddenly, but it was an invitation nonetheless. He should at least try and be nice about that, right? But still, around so many people in an environment he’d never been in didn’t sit too well in his mind, so it was a little difficult trying to be nice when he kept feeling his eyes shift to the nearest exit.

Yuuri sighed and did his best scanning the menu. Half the pictures looked foreign to him and a majority of dishes barely had an ingredient he could properly pronounce. What he wouldn’t give to have just gone to a quiet ramen shop or even a food stall. At least there the choices would have been familiar.

“How about I order for you?” Victor suggested once a waitress arrived with their drinks. Yuuri almost didn’t feel his hand over his own until Victor pulled away and he had to question if it actually happened. “That way you won’t worry yourself silly.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

Yuuri stole one more gaze around the restaurant to see the kind of people being served. Businessmen and older gentlemen were by the bar, schoolgirls were sharing food in the corners, mixed groups of friends were talking and laughing in the lounge area. Everyone looked ordinary to say the least, so how could such a place appear extremely extravagant and orderly but the patrons weren’t high class and paying with platinum credit cards?

 _Never judge a book by its cover, I guess_ , Yuuri thought, blinking incredulously when the waitress returned not a moment later with their food.

He didn’t recognize the dish but saw a combination of light chicken, rice, and a few vegetables. But there was only a single large plate of the strange food and a lone sparkler sat in the middle, spritzing tiny silver sparks every which way. As the waitress set it down on the table, Yuuri leaned forward to see that the smaller food items had been cut in the shape of hearts and smiley faces, and the day’s date was swirled in calligraphy on the edge of the plate in chocolate. Almost separate to the main course were two more heart-shaped foods: _daifuku_.

By how pale Yuuri had gotten, he was surprised neither the waitress nor Victor asked if he was alright. The server’s attention was mostly on Victor as she smiled and bowed low, cheerfully wishing the both of them—

“H-happy anniversary?” Yuuri repeated once she was out of ear shot. His throat was dry and color was finally returning to his face. “Victor, did she just say ‘have a happy anniversary’?”

Victor took the sparkler off the food and blew it out. “Did she? I’m not well with Kanji reading just yet, so I may have done a slight mixup.”

“A slight mixup? This is an aesthetic plate and you call this just a _slight_ mixup? Victor, she thought we were celebrating something strong and went out of her way to tell the chef specifically what we should have. We’re not married!”

“Your nose shrivels up when you’re angry,” Victor pointed out, separating some chopsticks and lightly bopping Yuuri’s nose with one. “Your voice gets high like a little mouse, too. Did you know that?”

“D-did you not hear a word I said!”

“I did, I did. If you’re upset with me Yuuri, I did not—”

“I…! N-no, no, I wouldn’t say I’m upset exactly.” Yuuri sunk in his seat, unaware of how loud he had gotten and the strange looks he’d acquired because of it. “I’m not upset,” he reassured, quieter this time. “It’s just when I saw the heart-shaped foods, the dessert on the side and the sparkler, I got nervous. I didn’t want to embarrass the waitress and say she got an order dangerously wrong. She seemed so confident and happy with her services, s-so, I mean, seeing hard workers love their job and smiling puts me at ease because I’m glad they can earn money doing what they love.”

“Ah, I see. So even if I had gotten the order wrong, you still would’ve taken the meal and said ‘thank you’?” Victor summed up, grabbing one of the pastries with his chopsticks.

“I guess.”

Yuuri paused when he replayed those words in his head. _Even if I had gotten the order wrong. Even if I had gotten the order **wrong**_. His face couldn’t get any hotter than the false celebratory dinner or brighter than the flowers on the table. He watched almost in slow motion as this sneaky classmate in front of him picked around the chicken with the other chopstick, not making out if his mouth was letting out complaints or compliments. Without meaning to, Yuuri slammed a hand down on the table, rattling every condiment and the two glasses of water and startling those closest to him and Victor but not Victor himself.

“Are you saying you,” he started, so low that Victor had to squint and lean forward, “Victor, are you saying you did this on purpose? Did you order this knowing it was for an anniversary?”

The upperclassman gave a mysterious grin and shrugged.

“Th-that’s not funny! Just tell me yes or no, because if we just wasted the staff’s time and energy—”

A hand returned onto Yuuri’s fist, and this time he was consciously aware of it. A little hum-like chuckle sounded in Victor’s throat, painting him ten times more mysterious, handsome, cheeky, and (slightly, only _slightly_ ) irritating than Yuuri could put up with.

“I didn’t know this kind of dish was reserved for people celebrating anniversaries,” Victor admitted softly. “I did not lie; I’m not well with Kanji reading just yet. I just saw how colorful and nice the food looked, so I thought it would make you happy. I did say that I wanted to make a good impression, didn’t I?”

Yuuri looked from the pile of food amazingly prepared to the ambiance the restaurant gave off. “I get that, but you didn’t have to go to these lengths for me. You hardly know me. We’re not friends.”

He didn’t stammer out a correction for how unintentionally harsh he sounded, and his heart wasn’t gearing up for another 100-meter dash with his stomach. His conscience perked up a bit, shying in that even if they weren’t exactly friends, _you shouldn’t be so cruel to someone trying his best. Not all people will find you weird if you put your best foot forward._

“We… Yeah, we’re not friends,” Yuuri repeated weakly, gaze downcast to the edge of the tablecloth. Why was his face getting hot now? He had no reason to cry, right? _Right?_ “I didn’t think you’d want to be friends with me anyway ‘cause, well… I’m so weird to figure out Victor. Okay? I second guess myself too much, I stutter, and I don’t talk in school. Who wants to be friends with that?”

A chopstick had hovered patiently in front of him, but Yuuri didn’t see this. It took another bop to the nose, this one a lot softer, to make him look up and see Victor holding out one of the _daifuku_.

“Let’s eat before the food gets cold,” he suggested, placing the sweet-filled confection on Yuuri’s tongue. “You’ll speak happier on a full stomach.”

. . . . . . . .

Victor hadn’t been completely wrong; on a full stomach Yuuri did feel a little better, but that didn’t mean he was in the best mood to spring up a conversation just because he’d had an impressive meal. So Victor had done most of the talking while they ate and currently still was while they walked the calories off, going on about his adventures so far in Japan and how they made him think of past adventures in Russia and why he found it funny he didn’t feel homesick and by God, Yuuri was surprised he wasn’t tuning anything out.

No, he wasn’t surprised about that. Nothing could convince Yuuri otherwise that Victor was going to be in a sour or offended mood after the whole _we’re not friends_ spiel. The truth hurt, that was always true, but Yuuri hadn’t meant for what he said to sound so heartless and cold.

 _You told the truth!_ His brain screamed at him. _You and Victor don’t have that high level of comfort to consider one another friends._

 _You didn’t lie!_ His heart berated him. _You do second guess yourself too much. Hell, you second guess about second guessing!_

 _You did nothing wrong_ , his conscience whispered. _You can’t help stuttering and not finishing a sentence. Social butterflies do that sometimes, too. You don’t need to talk in school so much if you don’t want to. You have Yuuko and Phichit as good friends. And your sister and parents. They all love you._

Funny how the voice in his head that said the most was the quietest little mouse Yuuri could almost never hear. What he did hear that snapped him out of his tilt-a-whirl of thoughts, however, was an excited gasp and then he was suddenly being yanked and the world was actually a tilt-a-whirl.

“Victor, Victor! Slow down! What is it?”

“Look up ahead! It’s that beautiful ice palace we were at not too long ago.”

“What?”

Forcing his glasses still on his face, Yuuri followed the direction Victor was pointing. Sure enough, the local ice-skating rink was a mere rising speck in the distance, but it was enough to catch Victor’s heart to have him practically drag Yuuri behind him. Yuuri didn’t protest too much (he didn’t think Victor would’ve heard him above all his huffing and puffing anyway), and endured the lengthy tugging up the wide steps of Ice Castle the best he could. The grip on his wrist let go, and he was left to hunch over, fraily catching what he could of his breath as Victor chatted away with… Wait a minute.

“Takeshi?”

“Huh? Oh, well, well! Look who it is.” The stocky build of a tanned boy a year or so above Yuuri stepped around the front counter, roughly pulling him into his side and sending stars in front of him with a ‘friendly’ noogie. “Haven’t seen you around here in months. Still trying to be bigger than me, yeah?” He added, eyeing the round figure of Yuuri’s waist.

Yuuri let out a small courtesy laugh, shaking his head. “You know it’s not a competition.”

“But if it was, I’m winning. Lost fourteen pounds last week.”

Takeshi took a moment to get Victor’s size for the skates and guided him to the rink, telling him something Yuuri couldn’t quite make out. He smiled a bit when he returned to his side, leaning against one of the metal railings separating ice from concrete.

“All things good?”

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah, yeah, things are fine with me. Crazy storm we had a while ago, right?“

“Yuuko told me you came here a few days ago. Said you were skating like all of us used to do when we were kids, but better.”

 _That’s right, she and I weren’t the only ones hogging the ice_ , Yuuri thought with a growing smile. He remembered the rare breaks when Takeshi, now Yuuko’s steady boyfriend, used to join his rinkmates in Ice Castle and idly skate with them, usually not putting as much effort in his jumps and spins, but when he did − wow!

When his own growing weight, studies, and eventual disinterest in skating made him hang up his skates for good after one Christmas, he made a promise to both Yuuko and Yuuri that he’d continue to support their own skating interests and do whatever he could to get them to skate for as long as they wanted. That’s why he took up Yuuko’s shifts whenever she got busy or sick.

“I just needed something to distract me,” Yuuri explained, fiddling with the strings of his windbreaker.

“I get that.” Takeshi nodded, drily whistling to entertain himself. Yuuri knew he only did this whenever something was on his mind. “Listen, I know I picked on ya when we were tots, but I’m not gonna bother you now that we’re older and know better. Especially after your… Well, you know. You can always call or text me if you have somethin’ to get off your chest, okay? Don’t be a stranger.”

“Okay. Thanks a lot Takeshi. Can you tell Yuuko—”

“Yuuri, come skate with me! The ice is fine!”

Takeshi laughed, patting a gentler noogie on Yuuri’s head as he left to fetch another pair of skates. “Yeah, I’ll tell Yuuko you said hi. Go see what your friend wants so he won’t be alone.”

 _Friend, friend_. There it was, that word again! Yuuri sighed and stepped as close to the ice as he could to get to Victor. He vaguely recalled seeing him on the ice when he occupied Ice Castle just the other week, but he didn’t see him _on_ the ice in action.

His legs extended like a prima ballerina as he glided from place to place, arms held in front and fingertips touching. Every movement had purposeful clarity and absolute control, like visual poetry. He pivoted in a revolving whirl of sharp precision and accurate grace, advanced and retreated in split seconds, and his long hair fluttered like a veil in the faint breeze he created for himself. His bright eyes showed sparkling joy like overflowing champagne, as if he were listening to a beautiful track in his head.

As Victor turned, his eyes caught Yuuri in frozen admiration. He slowed to a stop and winked, his head tilted to one side and a hopeful smile playing on his lips. He slowly skated over, kneeling down and taking Yuuri’s cold hand.

“Will you be my partner now Yuuri?” He whispered all but seductively.

The peak of scarlet dimpled forward, marking all of Yuuri’s nerves large across his cheeks. He didn’t even hear Takeshi returning with skates and was surprised when Victor began taking off his shoes to put them on his feet.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Victor continued in that low tone. He held out a hand, a smile blossoming like a perfect spring flower. “Yuuri, will you skate with me?”

A skater in his or her own icicle palace were the esteemed painters, the ice was both their home and blank canvas, but when they had someone to share the creativity with, they painted a picture sound alone could never achieve.

Yuuri and Victor brought a wordless interpretation of something an ordinary passerby would perceive as a blurred trail of color or strange movement, but to them it was the most honest form of communication they knew without all the stutters and pauses. Their voices, shouts, and laughter came around the railings without end, playing like a track and looping back to the start with seamless ease. Yuuri closed his eyes only to see Victor’s in his mind, full of delight and holding no trace of caring what others thought of him.

When he opened them, he saw the beautiful smile that always did him dirty. It flustered him, pleased him, made him too shy or too giddy that he could never comprehend one emotion first. He was always second guessing, always stuttering and turning red around this boy.

His cheeks burned hot at the sight that now egged him on to feel free and happy − Victor’s own magic.


	11. Primary Colors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t need someone to complete you. You only need someone to accept you completely.”

Yuuri’s tiredness made him hang limp like a pile of wet laundry. He felt every muscle giving in to gravity and just wanted a good night’s sleep, his nice warm bed, and a solid night of dreams. But that afternoon’s events wouldn’t let him be.

Not in a bad way, though. Throughout his time spent with Victor, Yuuri had had to continuously convince himself he wasn’t dreaming everything up. He actually had a nice lunch with Victor in an even nicer restaurant. He actually skated with him at Ice Castle, laughing and smiling his cares away. The two had shared hopes and dreams on the walk back to Yuuri’s house, revealed embarrassing secrets just outside his doorstep, and said what turned who off and why when the night was no longer young and Victor had to leave to catch the earliest train to school the next day.

It had been a bizarre blur of fun, nervousness, and confidence that raced furiously through Yuuri’s mind, and his head buzzed almost contentedly whenever he thought back on it like it had happened months or years ago. But as much as his heart wanted to soak in the adrenaline rush of a pleasant day, it wasn’t safe from the prickly “what ifs” flooding his blood.

_What if Victor and I start getting too close too soon? Then what will we be? What if the kids at school find out what’s happening with us? What will they say? Is it weird for two guys to be hanging out so much? What if that Yurio boy tries something? Will his feelings get hurt if Victor and I become friends?_

Yuuri’s shoulders slumped as he stared in the mirror, running his toothbrush across his teeth with less and less energy. He had to find a way, somehow, someday, to wallop those pesky thoughts into oblivion. He needed a good rest after so much activity on a school night and knew for sure his brain would be more active than a beehive if he didn’t find a way to settle down.

 _It’s fine, it’s fine_ , his heart on a hopping high reassured. _Things will be fine in the morning. You’ll settle down and go to school like normal._

“And then I’ll fly to the moon and back,” Yuuri muttered, unconvinced by his own thoughts.

With a drawn out sigh, he rinsed his mouth and dimmed the lights before retreating to bed, curling his knees to his chest and savoring that odd yet comforting single warm spot on his sheets. Vicchan had always snuggled deep in the boy’s bed despite Hiroko scolding Yuuri for having to wash the dog hair off every other week. But Yuuri never cared; he’d loved whenever his dog burrowed under the covers, panting his warm breath all over his cheek and thumping his tail faster whenever Yuuri would smile up at him.

Yuuri’s legs rose up further, his mind washed with so many memories and nostalgic recollections of a colorful household. The hallways dressed in seasonal decor when it came to the holidays; Toshiya’s off key singing clashed with the morning radio, always making Hiroko laugh as she whipped up another beautiful breakfast masterpiece; Yuuri would race Mari down to the market on Saturdays (and Mari always let him win).

Yuuri heard himself chuckling, and the carefree sound warmed his heart and spread out his smile. He hugged his pillow as tight as he could, wanting to secure all that bubbly love and happiness selfishly for himself. His breathing relaxed to a gentle lull, his back rolled over to the soft caresses of sheets…

No, no, now he was on ice? Nothing was restraining him; not his weight, not his insecurities and fears of judgement. Yuuri was free to share his own story with those beautiful skates on that beautiful ice. It wasn’t the same without a partner, but this meant he could jump and spin and twirl to his heart’s content all the more. And he did; he defied gravity, dared to go one step higher, skate for an extra minute longer to enjoy where he was and be overjoyed with…

_Victor? When did he get here?_

There was no ponytail above those thin but generous shoulders, instead the long flow of silver embraced Victor’s face, making him look twice as handsome and thrice as mysterious. Yuuri couldn’t tell where the two were − _are we in one of the locker rooms?_ − but he knew he was dreaming. He tried to say hello or ask when Victor had gotten there, though it was as if the attempts were visualized in his mind. He felt like he was speaking, but he had an inkling that Victor couldn’t hear him.

_Victor, how come you’re here, too? Are we skating again? Did you want to go for a walk?_

Victor smiled like he could hear Yuuri’s thoughts, and this made Yuuri smile too. It threw him off when Victor stepped a bit too close for comfort, but when did he ever put one’s personal space into account? Maybe it was the speed at which Victor had walked, a little too suave and, dare Yuuri think it, a little too sexy for his wholesome mind. Victor leaned in closer, breathing out a chuckle by the shell of Yuuri’s ear.

“You’re too much for me,” he whispered in a tone that made Yuuri’s neck splotch up in heat. “Why must you be? Hm? Yuuri… So perfectly even and round.”

_R-round? I’m not that big, am I? Victor, I’m perfectly—_

That’s when it hit him. Or rather, groped him. The roundness Victor was referring to happened to be Yuuri’s _bare ass_ , which for some bizarre reason was nearly visible below the same green hemline of the bathrobe Victor had worn the first night he had stayed over. Yuuri’s legs refused to move, too in shock, too _mortified_ at how he was suddenly presenting himself. His eyes flickered between Victor’s infatuated gaze and the loose linen barely hugging his body. The laugh that rumbled out of Victor’s throat made him transform into someone Yuuri had never seen before.

This Victor was a bolder, touchier, and more passionate version of the happy-go-lucky, ecstatic and bouncing Victor Yuuri saw at school or down the walking trail at the park. Was it even possible for a single person to transition so effortlessly like this?

_V-Victor, what are you…?_

A smooth hand trailed down Yuuri’s cheek until a finger stopped on his parted lips, a quiet _”shh”_ beating his heart like a wild drum. Victor silently embraced his shaking and flushed body, pressing his ear against an exposed chest housing an out of control pulse. Dream or not, Yuuri could guarantee people all the way in South Korea could probably hear his dream heartbeat and would probably sympathize. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t think.

All he could do was stare down at Victor, watching his actions as if Yuuri was some cuddly dog and Victor needed a hug after a long day. Victor’s arms were soft around Yuuri’s waist, and his body was moulded into his own in seconds. He shared body heat as easily as he shared his heart, and it was in that moment that some of Yuuri’s anxious thoughts caught up with him beyond reality. He had never been able to let any other person like this close to him, but Victor was so…different. Yuuri had never known a person, even if they were wrong, to always have the right motives, the right introductions, the right smiles and gestures.

For Yuuri there was an innocence in him, maybe naivety, but Victor brought out something more from him. It made Yuuri want to pick him up (not like he could), to give him his own hugs, to curl his fingers through his beautiful silver hair. But he knew he’d never do that.

There was always this desire Yuuri felt he had to do. He wanted to copy Victor, to assure him he wasn’t trying to be stone cold or use his insecurities as a blocked off wall from friendship. They hadn’t known each other for long, though this never stopped him from thinking of a life with Victor in it. However, he also felt that if he did what he desired to do, he would not be the same.

So, in the dream, Yuuri left his lips on Victor’s because he wouldn’t have the nerve to do it in person. He let his body stay still while both arms leaned in on Victor’s shoulders, because he knew if he moved, his brain would spark and it would scream to _stop, just stop, what are you doing, stop!_

And he let the tears roll down in the same calm, because, well…

No, now Victor’s hands were curled around Yuuri’s stomach, and he smiled almost sadly as he chuckled behind his own salty tears. “When will you tell me?” He whispered.

Yuuri woke as if it were an emergency, as if sleeping had become something dangerous. His heart beat fast and his brain panicked with buzzing and jump-leads together, rushing to work with common sense and comprehension on how and why he could have such a dream in the first place. It lasted what he imagined to be a minute or two when in reality he could have been sleeping for hours.

Yuuri rubbed the remains of sleep from his eyes and gazed out at the horizon his window offered, its bright light stretching over a rosy sky making him cover his face. He was willing to go back to the sleep carousel, allow his mind to fall back to nonsensical dreaming, but it wouldn’t. Not after that dream. Now the activities of the day demanded he think about them, find solutions, get things done.

Yuuri was up with no escape.


	12. Compare & Contrast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s confusing when you can’t determine if the signs are for you to give up or just a test to see how long you could hold on.”

While he watched the sun rise, Yuuri leaned back on the cold metal of the patio table, his pajama shorts soaking up the humid morning dew. Darkness hadn’t given in to the sun for long, but if Yuuri squinted enough, he could make out the colors scattered around the horizon. The sky was no longer starless and dark, but it wasn’t exactly all light, either. Yuuri smiled and closed his eyes at the balmy breeze, and no sooner did the thought come to him than he had his phone high in the air, wanting to capture the start of the morning.

When he went to take a second picture, something even more beautiful entered the frame and he was 100% positive he wasn’t sleeping.

“V-Victor, what are you…?”

Just like his dream, Yuuri couldn’t feel his lips moving and thought he was saying everything in his head. However, reality tied a silver string on his voice and tossed it out, forcing him to say what he couldn’t have while asleep.

Victor smiled, unraveling his scarf while Makkachin happily wagged his tail in Yuuri’s direction. “Good morning, Yuuri. Did you sleep well?”

“I… Y-yes, I slept fine. What are you doing here? It’s so early and cold out here.”

“I wanted to surprise you and your family for breakfast. I took you out Yuuri, so I’ll take your parents out to eat, as well. How about it?”

How about it? How in the world was Yuuri supposed to respond? That amount of generosity fit more so in a 1950s family show, not so much in present-day Japan. Not to say that there weren’t friendly, kind or generous hearts out there, but for someone who you weren’t as acquainted with as you wanted to show up at your doorstep before 7 a.m. to invite you out to breakfast?

With such a heartwarming smile and gentle eyes that didn’t want to pressure you out of your comfort zone? And accompanied with little Makkachin. wagging his tail faster and widening his puppy-dog eyes. like he was going to pounce on Yuuri’s leg any second and plead.

Yuuri squeezed his eyes shut, sighing out his uncertainty before meeting Victor’s eyes.

“I really don’t know. My family’s not that big on eating out, and this is kind of last minute. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I understand.” Shoot, now Yuuri felt like an ass. “Oh! Then at least let me help you set the table and make breakfast. Could I do that instead for you?”

“Uh…”

“Yuuri dear, is that you talking?” Hiroko’s distant voice fluttered from inside and down the stairs, making Yuuri jump. When had he opened the door? Had it been open this whole time? “Is someone at the door? Who is it?”

“You’re hearing things again, Hiro. Come back to bed,” came Toshiya’s sleepy encouragement.

“It’s just Victor and Makkachin!” Yuuri rubbed his knuckles together, looking from the sunset to his dark, small hallway. Even for his sunny and peppy parents, this was way too early to start breakfast. “Victor, school starts in about two hours, you know. So it would kind of be a waste if we started making—”

The creak of the floorboards made Yuuri jump again and wheel around. Mari, with her usual bedhead and morning cigarette hanging out her mouth, stopped to make sleepy eye contact with her brother and then over to the guest she had never seen before.

But she had heard just enough about him. She smiled and lightly pushed Yuuri to the side, opening the door wider and gesturing inside.

“Good morning Victor. You wanna come inside for some coffee or somethin’?”

A buzz of electricity rippled through Victor’s bright eyes. “Wow! How did you know my name?”

Mari tousled Yuuri’s own bedhead. “Just a hunch.”

Yuuri cast his gaze down and watched the shadows of Victor’s shiny dress shoes cross the threshold. He headed for the kitchen as the latter began a conversation with his sister, looking around for the usual early morning ingredients all the while patting his clammy palms on his pajama pants. Victor was going to be eating with the Katsukis a second time.

It was just Yuuri’s luck Mari had teased him about inviting him to dinner a while ago, and here Victor was about to lend a hand for the most important meal of the day.

“You can always come over to see me,” Yuuri was saying to Makkachin, who had quietly followed behind him when he left for the kitchen. He scratched behind the dog’s ears and went so far as to nuzzle his wet and brown nose in an Eskimo kiss. Makkachin was so thrilled by the affection that he lapped his tongue all over Yuuri’s unsuspecting face. “I love you too buddy.”

Makkachin’s tail went back and forth at the word, and he licked at Yuuri’s cheek a final time before bounding back over to his owner’s legs, sniffing at his socks. Victor chuckled and knelt down to give him attention, too.

“Sometimes I fear I’ve still got a puppy,” he explained through his growing smile.

Mari raised an eyebrow as she set out some pots for the miso. “How come?”

“Because if I get any older, I won’t be able to keep up with him. I love running with my Makkachin every morning and chasing him around, but if he keeps beating me and I get slower…” The toy poodle let out a small bark, sitting on his hind legs and holding his head up high. “Alright buddy, I won’t finish my sentence. I’ll beat you in your races some day.”

Yuuri felt it in his eyes that they were reflecting his smile. He loved seeing the adorable brown pooch and wished he could visit more often, but that would require the company of a certain silver-haired Russian. Not that Victor wasn’t good company, he was just…eccentric company.

“Your dog’s pretty cute. Make sure you spoil him a lot,” Mari casually ordered, passing her brother a cutting board and some fruit. “Ah shit, we never asked what you prefer to have for breakfast, Victor. What’s your poison?”

Victor waved a hand. “Whatever Yuuri likes to eat, I’m fine with. I know he has good taste.”

“Sure,” Yuuri mumbled around a bashful smile while his heart contrasted the joy he felt with a harsh _thump, thump, thump_.

Gosh, he just didn’t understand his uncertainties and anxieties. It was a wonder he got by with good grades and made time for greater friends in his small circle. He never knew what exactly he wanted for himself. Did he want more friends that could console and help him out in hard times, or did he stay introverted with his own problems since he knew himself better? Did he want to go out more and travel, or was he content with the familiarity of his small hometown?

“Then you’ll always be eating well. My sweet little brother gains weight so easily, so if you’re scared about a new meal, see if he gets fatter.”

Yuuri scowled Mari’s way, who winked in response. “Gee, thanks.”

“I like his plumpness.” Victor shrugged and smiled. “He reminds me of a cute, little piglet. I like it.”

“O-oh, gee…thanks.”

Yuuri wished someone would walk up to him, bop him on the head, and that that would be the stopper of his rollercoaster of emotions. He’d never told anyone this, not even his parents, but once Yuuri had thought of maybe seeing a regular therapist. But what stopped him wasn’t because the best ones were in Tokyo or Osaka, or that all those expenses plus the distance would wear him out before the doctor could.

Yuuri couldn’t put it in his own words, but telling someone he needed a therapist made it sound like he was a lost cause rather than a concerned boy worrying about his own health. What could he do?

Victor’s sudden chuckle threw Yuuri’s focus all out of whack.

“I’ve heard when you cannot sleep,” Victor started wistfully, lining up the seasonings for the dried seaweed, “it’s because someone is dreaming fondly of you.”

“You didn’t sleep well last night?” Yuuri repeated, eyes going from the chilled grapefruit he was slicing up to Victor and back down to the knife. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Oh Yuuri…” A match lit under Yuuri’s cheeks by how Victor trailed off with his name dangling so velvety off the tip of his tongue. Yuuri gripped the cutting knife. “I did eventually doze off and had the most wonderful dream about us. We were together on a beach, but even though it was gray and damp, we felt its beauty. We had a nice conversation about school, and I think we had a picnic later on. But when I asked if you had ever had a lover in the past—”

“ _Eh?_ ” Yuuri squeaked out, jumping in time to his own shock.

“Were you actually in my dream, because you jumped just like that!” Victor laughed himself silly. “You were stumbling with your words and waving your hands like you do. Your face was the most beautiful shade of red, like in a rose garden.”

Well, here came a garden in full bloom. “Then what happened?” Yuuri muttered, cursing up a storm when he no longer saw Mari.

“I had to reassure you. So I leaned in.” Victor gently put his fingers on Yuuri’s wrist and ever so slowly traced them up his arm to his chin. “Like this.”

Yuuri’s small Adam’s apple violently bobbed up and down by his gulp he knew Victor had heard. “And…and then?”

“I took your trembling hands in mine.” Victor’s hands intertwined with Yuuri’s. “Just like how they are trembling now. When I did, that made you stop and look at me without looking away.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Yuuri.”

A silent beat too long passed by, skipping around the boys and almost taunting Yuuri’s growing blush and sinking stomach. If it weren’t for Makkachin’s panting, he would have thought he was deaf.

“What else did you do?” He dared to ask around his hoarse voice.

Victor’s smile transformed him into someone completely different. Not like the bold and fiery romantic from Yuuri’s dream, but almost like a shy, soft sweetheart who would do anything to touch the soft spot in Yuuri’s heart as tenderly as he could. The tips of their noses graced off one another, and Victor’s eyes closed as he delivered a honeyed peck with the pressure of a feather onto Yuuri’s lips.

Dear God, Yuuri couldn’t fight the thoughts that were rushing through him now. Victor’s very scent was flooding his senses now, a mixture of fresh pine and strawberries out during a chilly breeze. He didn’t really know how to describe it other than it being nice, safe, sweet, and all Victor. All _his_.

So, in the privacy of his own kitchen, Yuuri’s head took the risk to move in closer. He held Victor’s arm out of both fear and anticipation and stood on his toes so their foreheads rested against one another’s.

“Can you show me that again, please?”


	13. Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anger doesn’t solve anything. It builds nothing, but it can destroy everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, SO much for giving this Yuuri on Ice story so much attention!! Keep the fandom strong, because this anime is too beautiful to wilt. Stay healthy and safe! ⛸️🌹

All the energy and courage Yuuri had hyped into himself to kiss Victor earlier that morning vanished like the sun replacing the moon. He wasn’t sure why he was experiencing a slope in his nerves out of the blue like this; that handsome, silver-haired blue-eyed Russian had been his first kiss, and he was avoiding him in the halls the best he could once more.

Mari had probably had an inkling that some form of fascination would pull the boys closer than ever, and Yuuri hadn’t thought of sending his utmost gratitude to the man upstairs for not having his parents walk in before his lips connected with Victor’s. Or having them see their son locking lips with the boy they had already deemed their second son ever since he helped Yuuri home that rainy Sunday.

Yuuri shivered. The fading of sunlight also meant the fading of heat. Fall air swirled around him, taking every lick of warmth it could as he jogged back inside from the track. He wrapped his arms tighter around himself and tucked his chin in his thin gym shirt, his breath barely visible under the school lights. He sniffed hard around the aching of his nose, giving his backside a hard mental kick for forgetting his face mask in his locker.

“Why do they make us practice in 30 degree weather? It’s inhumane.”

“Complain to the school board. I dare you.”

“ _Pssh_ , shut up, both of you.”

The usual slew of complaints from the runners, volleyball players and kickball goalies fell into play like the sweat rolling off Yuuri’s back. He kept his head down as he passed them getting ready, but a small sigh leapt out of his mouth as another quick glance at the wall clock only seemed to confirm that time was slowing down.

He wanted to go home.

“Did you see the new guy out there?”

“What? Victor?”

Yuuri’s heart paused so his ears would listen.

“That’s his name? He’s such a show off.”

“He’s got decent stamina though. A shoo-in for the military.”

With butterflies swarming his stomach and his head buzzing, Yuuri thought back almost in a daze of the boy-on-boy smooch. Again, his first kiss had been Victor Nikiforov. Was that weird? Not necessarily with kissing a boy, but…kissing _Victor_ , of all boys. Yuuri had read somewhere that it was a European custom to kiss someone as a greeting, so how far was he stretching this custom by giving a full minute kiss to the lips in his very own kitchen at barely seven in the morning?

“I don’t see it.”

“It’s better than asthmatic flab slowing the team down.”

A muscle twitched at the corner of Yuuri’s eye as he snatched his things up and stumbled out of the locker room, covering his ears so he wouldn’t hear the cruel laughter following him. Now he just wanted to sleep through the whole day and start fresh. No kisses, no early breakfast making, no strange dreams. Just him and…

Well, he didn’t really know. Maybe he’d go out to dinner with his parents, or video chat with Phichit. Or call Yuuko, or text Takeshi. Something to distract him from you-know-who, because Yuuri didn’t know why or what for, but something was itching inside of him to _just ask Victor if he’s free, it won’t hurt. You can’t keep ignoring him when you’re embarrassed. We can just go out for a walk or grab a quick coffee._

“I’ll just say hi to him,” Yuuri decided for himself, his thoughts not too fond of the alternative but willing to take whatever. Maybe things would escalate and Victor would do all the talking instead.

So he straightened up and scanned the steady after-school crowd, running through the list of places Victor could be in his mind and checking off the ones he had already searched. Where was he? He couldn’t have left this early. Yuuri’s eyes darted more wildly with each passing second, noticing any male with a glint of silver or black, hoping it was Victor’s hair or his dark shoes. Then he began to call out his name, getting a little louder until heads turned in his direction. Well, he had the attention, so he might as well use it.

“Have you seen Victor?”

Finding the boy was no longer a problem. It was how to take in the sight of him.

Some girl had Victor pressed to the wall, and her height was just low enough to show her lips locked with Victor’s in a passionate kiss. Her hands were wrapped snugly around his waist, and Victor’s hands were gently holding onto the girl’s forearms as the tuft of his hair blocked out his eyes. When the girl peered over her shoulder as if she had sensed the third presence, the dam inside the Japanese boy began to crack when she smirked.

Yuuri looked over her head at Victor, his stupid bright eyes meeting with glossy brown ones. Looking into those eyes never felt so foreign, even though they were the same ones that had held a bottomless kindness under that bridge. They were the ones that shone with endless enthusiasm when Yuuri had shared stories about himself during their first sleepover. Those eyes that made it to his dreams, those blue-green eyes of all emotions, be it concern, tease, curiosity, love—

Yuuri wanted to throw up.

His feet went from the floors of tiled linoleum to the flowing gray of sidewalks in ten seconds. He struggled to make out the details of the streets around the dramatic drop in daylight and the stinging haze around his eyes. The cold that had seemed so mild at first numbed his face, and what residual heat he had absorbed in the school was gone.

 _No, no, no, why?_ Why’d he have to see that? Why were his ears ringing? Why was his stomach threatening to fall through his pants leg?

Yuuri’s heart was pumping faster now due to the growing evening and icy frost burning his body. No, no, no, he was _dreaming, I’m dreaming, and this is all just some stupid joke, not real_. He felt the sidewalk beneath his shoes crinkle as it began to slightly freeze over, and he practically threw himself into the nearest building just as the clouds finally let loose a starting drizzle. The sound was oddly distracting with his hiccuping pulse, but now Yuuri needed a much bigger distraction.

“I’m so sorry, we’re closed for the− Yuuri?”

“I need to skate. Please Yuuko. Just for a couple minutes and then I’ll leave.”

Yuuko gaped, taking in her friend’s shivering and disheveled appearance. Her brows creased with worry, and she opened her mouth to say something but instantly bit her lip when Takeshi’s hand fell on hers.

There were some lines friends should never cross, no matter how close. Whatever was ailing Yuuri to the point where he took on freezing weather just to skate, he thought as he gestured to the rink, was absolutely none of his or Yuuko’s business for the time being.

Strapping on a pair of skates, Yuuri took to the ice in such a blurred start that he startled himself at how fast he went. Yet he knew if he stumbled for even a nanosecond, his footing would fail and more than his confidence would slip. The ice clicked with each glide of the blades, the sharp under-footing leaving behind deep indents the quicker the troubled brunet moved.

Yuuko watched from the sidelines, worrying her lip again with great concern that Yuuri couldn’t see. It was one thing to do something you loved when you were feeling down or stressed. It was a whole other thing for that hobby to practically possess you and push you past your limits. Yuuko had seen her friend attempt some daring stunts on the ice in the past, but only when his head was clear and he was encouraged to try.

Now with every jump, skip, spin and slide, Yuuko’s heart pumped out fear rather than enthusiasm.

 _You’re fine, keep going_ , the voice in Yuuri’s head coached him. _You’re doing just fine. Nothing’s stopping you. Not the time, not your parents, not even Victor._

Just thinking the sorry name made Yuuri’s throat close up, and he desperately wanted to smother the image of him and his secret girlfriend kissing. He hadn’t wanted to know he was already in a relationship. At least, not in that way. He never wanted to be hurt by the unknown, no matter how simple it was.

 _Why?_ Yuuri ground his teeth to keep from shouting it. His temples were beating at all the bouts of sweetness he’d been subject to for the past couple weeks. _Were they all just recycled for me? For someone new until he got bored?_

With each thought, the clicking on the ice grew louder. Had Victor been playing puppet master all this time? Had he taken advantage of Yuuri’s mourning? Did he even realize there were emotions outside of that stupid and blind happiness he was always parading around with?

“Why Victor?” Yuuri’s heart raced against his moving legs. “I… _trusted_ you. I-I liked you, I lo−!”

As fast as Yuuri had gone on the ice, the faster an eventual slip-up was bound to happen. His left foot hadn’t moved to the side in time and wound up tangled behind his right, causing his whole body to snap around. His chin and stomach slammed into the cold surface, and his vision blurred as his glasses bounced off his face.

“Yuuri!”

Yuuri laid there in a stunned silence, more upset over the fact that he’d let himself get worked up by just one person, and because of his unorganized thoughts, he had gotten injured in the process. He shakily felt around for his glasses as Yuuko and Takeshi skated over to him.

“Yuuri! Oh my god, are you okay? All I heard was this big thump and I didn’t see you anymore!”

“I’m fine Yuuko.” Like his chin, Yuuri’s head was throbbing and numb. “Really, I’m okay. I just spooked myself.”

“We should’ve spotted you or something,” Takeshi admitted, “but we wanted to give you space to clear your head. That was careless of us to assume—”

“Yuuri, your ankle!”

Yuuri peered back. Sure enough, his right ankle had taken most of the impact and was a disturbing deep shade of red. “It’s fine. This has happened before,” he muttered unconvincingly, unable to tame the quiver in his voice.

Takeshi shook his head hard and slowly guided his friend out. “That’s it, we’re taking you to the emergency room.”

“Guys, I’m fine. I’ll just go home, put ice and heat on it, and in the morning it’ll go away.”

“And what if it doesn’t?" Yuuko’s eyes wavered as she helped Yuuri out the skates. “Yuuri, this is serious. What if you broke your ankle? Those take a lot of time to heal, and broken bones are the hardest to deal with when you’re already in—”

“Idiot, I said _I’m fine!_ ”

Not wanting his temper to explode again, Yuuri hobbled out the doors in just his socks, ignoring the calls from Yuuko and the sharp pricks of rain on his exposed skin. The need to cry returned and was stronger than ever. He definitely wasn’t having the best of days, and his fall only added to his pain. In such a state, he especially didn’t want anyone else close to him getting hurt.

Should his parents want to talk during dinner, he’d feign a sore throat and ask to eat in his room. If Phichit wanted to video chat, he had to pretend he was nowhere near his phone. In the instance that Yuuko called or Takeshi texted, Yuuri knew he couldn’t face them in an upset manner.

He needed to go home and forget everything. Rest up, fix his injury, scream in his pillow…

And pretend that that day had never happened.


	14. Still Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”—Victor Hugo

Victor had overstayed his welcome as Yuuri struggled to push him out helplessly, punching and hurting every limb. He dug in his stomach and speared his heart. He whispered poisonous words in his mouth and bit his ears to mute out his lies. He climbed up his spine with his overwhelming, unbeatable power, breaking bones and demanding to be touched.

And Yuuri just laid there in bed, tears burning his cheeks, hands pale and shaking from the fifth night terror. He’d been trying to keep the cries low, drown them out, or stop them all together. But the nightmares continued and it was useless to fall back asleep, so his heart tore from the sounds of his own weeping.

When he awoke the next morning, he could barely lift his head off the pillow. He was too drained to think, too shaken up to go downstairs and eat, too empty to go pray in front of Vicchan’s shrine. When he moved his jaw to yawn, even that hurt as a dull throbbing would begin and uncomfortably fade out. One of his nostrils felt like he’d jammed ten cotton balls in the small cavity while the other was frozen-burnt from last night’s rain.

But nothing compared to the scare upon moving the blankets and seeing a large, purple-and-red swollen mess rising up his entire left foot.

“ _M-Mom! Dad!_ ”

The ride to the emergency room was the most embarrassing and stressful thing Yuuri had ever gone through. Being carried out the car by his father while his mother and sister spoke over one another to the receptionist, one a little calmer, the other on the verge of turning blue she was speaking so fast. They were lucky enough to beat morning traffic on both the streets and in the hospital, and even luckier that while Yuuri’s ankle was painting a couple concerning colors, it was only mildly sprained and didn’t require surgery.

“The marks around his jaw line and stomach should take about a week and a half to go away. They’re not that serious,” the doctor informed Yuuri’s parents while the boy gripped his pajama pants, staring at his gauzed up foot. “If he avoids any strenuous activities, stays hydrated and rests well, we’re looking at a more swift recovery process for his ankle. I’ve prescribed him some cream in case it starts getting irritated. Have him use it right after he wakes up and right before bed.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor Mitsurou,” Toshiya said with a deep bow. “We’ll be sure to keep you updated if we see anything.”

The doctor bowed as well and excused herself to check Yuuri’s x-rays with a nurse. Once the door was closed and the footsteps faded, Toshiya and Hiroko turned to face their son, but Mari kept her gaze on the posters. Yuuri wasn’t looking at anyone. He knew without a doubt that in their hearts they were angry, yes, but disappointment and worry overshadowed the nasty emotion just as quick.

“Yuuri dear…” Hiroko sighed, tried to speak again, failed to string something together, and wound up gripping her boy’s hands. “Please, please don’t give us a scare like that ever again. Will you look at your mother?”

Yuuri kept his head down.

“I don’t know if I want you skating anymore if this is what happens,” Toshiya put in, smoothing Yuuri’s hair back. “If you had injured yourself any more than this or broke a vital bone, you could’ve—”

“I know,” Yuuri cut in, his voice hoarse from a sore throat and struggling not to cry.

“Yuuri baby, please look at your mother?”

“Yuuri, look at me.”

The boy’s head finally rose, but he looked into neither his mother nor Mari’s eyes. He stared straight ahead, silently snapping at his fingers to _stop shaking, stop, you deserved this. You were careless, stop._

“I’m sorry.” His voice was depressingly dry. He must have cried out all the water in his body. “I had such a bad day yesterday. I was just so upset and distracted, a-and I wanted to skate and make myself happy again.” He coughed, his own body choking him. “I didn’t want to bother anyone else.”

“Yuuri, you can always bother us. We won’t care what it is.” Hiroko’s hands graced Yuuri’s chin, avoiding the bruises, and the latter felt her cool wedding band on his skin as she slowly tilted his head up. “You know that, right? If you didn’t and you were too scared, then I guess your father and I haven’t been the very best, have we?”

“No! No, I didn’t mean no you guys aren’t doing your job. You are. You’re the best and I love you.” Yuuri glanced over at Mari, holding her gaze with all the energy he had. “I love my big sister, too, but I can’t…I just hate myself.”

His face, in his guilt-stricken opinion, was pitifully convulsed, and tears welled fast in his eyes. He shook his head hard and roughly wiped them away with the back of his wrist, but they just kept coming.

"I put the people I love the most in a lot of worry when I shouldn’t. I’m a big idiot, and I can’t ever handle stress the way I want to! It won’t…I just want to be normal!”

Yuuri became greatly alarmed when three pairs of arms just about squeezed him to death, and he had half a mind to struggle out of it. He sat, quiet, as the gentle shushing from Mari, the kiss on his temple from his father, and a nostalgically familiar lullaby from his mother made his eyes burn.

“A good cry is sometimes all we need Yuuri,” Mari whispered in his ear, “then we’re warriors all over again.”

Yuuri ground his teeth together, a shaky sob exploding out his mouth. He didn’t deserve his family’s benevolence like this, and he didn’t deserve such powerful and pure second and third chances.

But as he had his good cry, he felt the tiny warrior in his heart crying too, ready to stand up with him when he was ready.

. . . . . . . .

Yuuri could feel the streaming tears cleanse his red cheeks, and a few droplets remained, forgetting their way as the path was swept from beneath them, consequently blurring his vision. Why was he doing this to himself? He couldn’t help it, he just couldn’t.

“Maybe give the onions a break?”

He gave a wan smile to Mari and pushed the literal tear-jerking vegetables away from him, returning to the dull screen of his phone. A week and a half had passed, and following the doctor’s advice to a T had never felt better. The coloring on his foot had darkened within the first few days of the ripe injury, but as time passed, so did the unsightly color, the sporadic night aches, and his need for the cream. He was due for crutches soon, but not for school.

His parents wanted him to use up all the time he needed to rest and get well, and while Yuuri appreciated their cares, there was only but so much he could do around the house and in the garden when he was permitted outside. Lately he’d been itching to get in the kitchen again and cook with his mother, but Hiroko was adamant in keeping her son off her feet when he didn’t need to be up.

Mari agreed with this idea too, though she couldn’t help spoiling Yuuri whenever both parents went out to do the shopping. That Friday evening, Yuuri had badly wanted to help cook dinner, and Mari allowed his request so long as he sat down and worked with whatever she handed him. So far, he’d measured three things of flour, mixed up a broth, and peeled four nasty onions.

“Thanks for letting me help,” he said softly towards his sister.

“No problem. I know you’re introverted enough as it is, but you care to see and do other things that aren’t in your room.”

Yuuri smiled and rested his cheek in his hand, scrolling through an Instagram feed of yummy recipes and the cutest puppies, when his screen flashed to a picture of two hamsters.

_Phichit?_

His screen booted the animal picture to the side after a few seconds of letting the phone beep, showing a new one: three tiny kids squished together, cheesing for the camera in the middle of a skating rink.

_Yuuko…_

Yuuri could feel his lungs filling with the concerned waves of questions and exclamations from the incoming flash flood from his friends. He had told them of his hospital visit and injuries three days after the humiliation had worn off, but hadn’t really contacted them after that. What were they going to say now?

“You…you… I can’t believe you would just run off like that! It was raining too!”

“The doctor said you didn’t hurt anything too important, right?”

“Yuuri, never do anything like that to me and Takeshi again! We were _thisclose_ to calling the police when you wouldn’t pick up.”

“Do you have to take medicine, too? Is it pills or something you drink?”

Mari snickered by her place at the counter, wiping her palms on her apron as she took her leave. “I guess your second mother and father will be giving you the lecture, huh?” She ruffled Yuuri’s head. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay.” Yuuri watched his sister leave and hesitantly returned to the video chat. “Guys, I’m okay. Well, no, not really. I’m still a bit—”

“Broken? Sore?” Yuuko shook her head and pouted above the stuffed animals she had her chin on. "God, you gave me such a fright. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t think straight… I want you to take all your medicine and do what the doctor said.”

“How bad does it hurt?” Phichit asked, absentmindedly placing one of his hamsters on his head.

“It used to throb, but not to the point where I couldn’t walk.” Yuuri angled his phone to show his friends his bandaged foot. “I shouldn’t be walking anyway, but I mean like little distances to the bathroom or to walk around my room for a minute to stretch. My mom says soon I’ll be getting crutches and that’ll make things easier for me.”

Yuuko sighed, her eyes shut tight. The guilt sat not on Yuuri’s chest but inside his brain. What he had done he could not undo. He could make amends in subtle ways and make promises for his mentality all he wanted, but turning back time was out of the question. He could only move forward.

“Yuuko, I want to apologize for being so rude to you. I didn’t mean to be. I was upset, tired and stressed, but that was absolutely no excuse to call you an idiot. You were trying to look out for me.” Yuuri smiled at the duo with his eyes. “Phichit, I’m sorry too, for worrying you and not answering your calls. I needed time, but I should have made an attempt to tell you what was happening. If I rest and keep my foot away from any pressure, I’ll be walking again in no time guys.”

“You promise?” Phichit asked, his bottom lip anxiously sticking out.

“Cross my heart.”

Yuuko nodded, her beautiful smile that Yuuri missed so much beginning to show. “Feel better Yuuri. I’ll call you after dinner.”

“And you can call me whenever. I’m not doing anything,” Phichit added.

“I will. I love you guys. Bye-bye.”

When his phone returned to Instagram, Yuuri let out a breath he never knew he was holding and glared at his injured foot. Wow. How could he have been so—

_No, no I wasn’t stupid. Okay, maybe I was, but… Oh, who am I kidding? That was a pretty stupid move._

He closed his eyes, figuring some rest would do him some good, but no sooner did he close his eyes than his shoulder was tapped. He jumped and looked up into Mari’s eyes, seeing they were a little too dark in emotion. His heart started thudding in the corner of his chest.

“Mari, what’s the matter?”

“Victor’s on the porch asking for you.”

Yuuri’s emotional hurricane was in full force. Emotions. The very thing that made a human, human. You could have happiness, pride, excitement, relief. Every emotion considered good. But what would you be if you didn’t feel hurt, pain or despair? You couldn’t have the good without the bad.

Anxiety and fear grabbed him by the tongue and dried his mouth. His empty, burning lungs and pulse drumming his chest so hard he thought it would break his ribs were the only thing he could think about.

“I don’t want to see him.”

“Yuuri…”

“I don’t want to see him! Tell him to go away.”

Mari spent a minute too long trying to dissuade Yuuri from his anger with just one look, but he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t even look at her. With a defeated sigh, Mari finally trudged back to the door, snippets of words and broken sentences barely reaching Yuuri’s ear. When he heard the faint and unfamiliar whine of Makkachin, he wanted to cry all over again.

Mari returned, expression unchanged, but she was rubbing her arm and blinking slow.

“Yuuri, he says he really misses you at school. You won’t answer any of his messages and he just wants to know if you’re okay.”

“Tell him I’m fine and that his girlfriend can cheer him up.”

Yuuri’s whole body shook along with the volcanic-like eruption, and he knew his words scalded even Mari by the way she stepped back. He looked away and found a distraction at the table, skinning a potato that didn’t need it anymore. Mari hung back, needing time to compose herself, fighting against the sympathetic tears wanting to break out − and she never cried.

Yuuri’s blush seared through his cheeks like an open wound, and for a minute he thought his face was on fire. He suddenly felt very awkward, guilty and angry, even going as far as attempting to hide his red features behind shaky fingers. Aside from his bitter heartbeat echoing in his ears, he heard Mari make another trip to the front of the house, mumble something that had his name in it, and heard Victor have the nerve to ask, as clear as day,

“Could you give him a kiss for me?”


	15. Symmetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The reality is people mess up. Don’t let one mistake ruin a beautiful thing.”

It was funny how a noticeable change in appearance or a painfully obvious absence from somewhere could have someone be treated like a celebrity upon return.

A formerly obese girl turned supermodel skinny after coming back from a summer of change? Every girl wanted to be her friend, every guy wanted to right his wrongs from neglecting her. A war veteran coming home after fifteen years of nonstop bloodshed? He was welcomed with in arms that wouldn’t spit lead and shed tears of relief, not out of mourning for his fallen brothers and sisters.

But in Yuuri’s case, when he clunked through the doors of his classroom on two bulky crutches, after about three plus weeks under strict doctor and parental orders, with his jaw gauzed up and his foot in a small supporting cast, he had entered the Twilight Zone.

Students he barely knew offered to carry his school supplies, the usual stern and hard-eyed teachers pulled him aside after lessons to offer words of encouragement, and even the upperclassmen from the sports teams were giving him worrisome looks and tried joking that if he was so adamant about stamina that he’d gone and wounded himself, he would make the perfect addition to track or volleyball.

 _Guess they grew tired of using my flab as the butt of their jokes_ , Yuuri’s repetitive conscience whispered to his pounding heart and queasy stomach.

Nobody really knew that Yuuri felt more than he expressed, so until they got to know more about him, they always saw him turn to hide his beet red face or shy away in the corner. Now with his new injury, it was as if everyone was demanding some form of closure, some form of new approach to get Yuuri to use his condition as an advantage to speak up, talk more, fit in with the chatty portion of the student body.

Yuuri had felt painfully out of place, like a fish in the cold shallows, with all of the warmth, love and laughter thrown on him by everyone at school. He hated it and wished he was bedridden for another two weeks.

Home wasn’t any better, but at least his parents and sister didn’t make him talk if he didn’t want to. They knew who they lived with, and only encouraged more out of his mouth to get him to speak up only if he was uncomfortable, in pain, or just not ready yet to go back to school.

Yuuri didn’t care how much attention he was sucking up like a leech; he wasn’t going to let it swell up his pea-sized ego in order to guilt-trip others that _yeah, look at me because you’ve never looked my way before. I’m damaged, don’t you feel bad? I’ll bet you want to be friends._

Part of his brain made him wonder if students were being so courteous because they were naturally concerned, or if it was a standard reaction they were taught they had to do. And he would not appreciate it in the slightest if the latter was the case.

“Mom, he’s doing it again.”

“Yuuri dear, sit down. You’re starting to shake on your feet. Are you all right?”

“S-sorry, just thinking.”

Mari snickered and skinned a couple potatoes over the broiling pot. “What else is new?”

Yuuri scowled with little anger and more mirth. “Shut up.”

“Language,” Toshiya warned, not looking up from his newspaper.

“I didn’t swear.” Yuuri glanced at his sister, who was pulling her eye down and sticking her tongue out. “But I could,” he murmured, copying the gesture back.

Mari snorted and expertly twirled the cutting knife in a one-woman show, then slid it back in its chopping block. “Please, the second a cuss leaves your mouth, you’d be so damn disappointed in yourself.”

“Says you,” Yuuri playfully spat, smirking when his parents shouted ‘language’ at their oldest. He shrugged and finished measuring a couple cups of sugar and baking soda. “I’m all done. Can I go for a walk now?”

“Just let me finish this story and I’ll tag along,” Toshiya promised, folding two pages at a time. “I’ll hurry, too. I know you’ve been a bit stir-crazy, and I don’t want the weather to make it any worse.”

Hiroko blinked away from the pot she was stirring. “How so, dear?”

“It says here there’ll be scattered thunderstorms along Hamatama and Yobuko. I can’t remember how close those are to our prefecture, but we’d better get a move on − even if it’s a light drizzle.”

“Take an umbrella,” Hiroko and Mari advised together.

“We will,” Yuuri and Toshiya droned together.

Of course they didn’t listen to the women of the house, but they weren’t tormented by any harsh winds or biting rain. It was a mild enough drizzle where their hoodies could protect them, and Yuuri wouldn’t need his crutches since his cast was waterproof, and he and his father weren’t walking that long of a distance.

“Everything okay at school?”

Yuuri blinked, cleaned off his glasses, and put them back on. He wasn’t distracted by the rain flooding his lenses, and he wasn’t purposely ignoring his father by entertaining his nervous tic. Something was off looming in the distance, huddled by the arch bridge he’d occupied so many Sundays ago.

“Yuuri?”

In the slow time-bubble, the rain was louder, the chill was cooler, and the colors were brighter. All the while his insides felt as if there was nothing there, nothing to need feeding, nothing to have need of anything at all.

“Dad…”

Yuuri turned, too slowly to be normal as if some inexperienced person was controlling him remotely, and his eyes were wide, looking right at _him_ , but not really. He watched his feet take steps across the glossy sidewalk, shoulders back, eyes frequently checking over his own appearance.

In the faltering light, the air grew heavy and the humidity pressed down, suffocating the energy out of Yuuri’s chest. He kept going forward. The scent of rain was tumbling into a dark and heady territory, and a stillness that was downright scary fell over the street before a low crackle of thunder startled Yuuri’s heart. He still kept going. For a moment, everything stopped. Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath. Then a streak of hot silver split the sky, light bounced up ahead, and the downpour began.

“ _Victor!_ ”

Soaked, distraught, and clearly not wearing a jacket, the boy looked away from the skies and down at Yuuri, his features scrunching up as if he was trying to remember who he was. Or maybe he was trying not to cry.

“What are you doing out here? It’s pouring! Where’s Makkachin?”

He didn’t answer. Yuuri took ahold of his arms, wobbling a bit on his protected foot. He called his name a good three times above the rising and sloping rain before Victor peered down at him, blinking slow and hard.

“Victor?” Yuuri almost whispered his fourth attempt at saying his name. What was wrong with his eyes? “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? That’s not a very good question to start off with.” Even above the rainfall, Victor’s low and shaky voice was crystal clear. “What happened with you? What happened with us? I thought we were good friends, Yuuri.”

Silence.

“The more you ignore me, the more upset I get. And you won’t tell me what’s the matter, and that makes me feel worse than garbage. I didn’t know where you were these past few weeks! I thought you had gotten hurt, and I was right!”

More silence.

“I felt it was all my fault. I thought you had put trust in me. I worried about you day and night, and Makkachin wouldn’t stop nudging my foot, whining to visit you. I didn’t know what to tell him. I didn’t know what to tell myself! I-I tried visiting you once, but you wouldn’t come out.”

“Victor, you’re…you’re crying.”

Yuuri could spot the difference between a rain-washed face and a tear-stricken face. Hunks of salty drops were grossly pooling out of Victor’s colorful eyes, which was contrasting greatly with the red and blotchy texture dimming the brilliant color.

“Of course I’m crying. I’m mad, okay? I kept you first in my heart, second in my mind. When you ran away from me at school and wouldn’t talk to me anymore, I wanted to know why. I sent you messages and called, I gave you space in case something had happened in your family and you didn’t want to talk about it, but you still never…”

Yuuri’s heart cracked. Seeing Victor erupt in an emotion other than happy-go-lucky or excited made him feel like crap. If Victor had caused Yuuri’s tears, Yuuri was no better and had caused Victor’s tears. But the strain Victor had caused within him wasn’t his fault. Yuuri had no control over whom the Russian could love and be committed to, but he certainly had control over what he could do to avoid certain problems.

Shunning Victor and treating him like he’d never known him was the worst thing Yuuri had had to sit through. Just as painful as Vicchan’s passing. In both situations, someone so close to him had slipped from his fingers, and he couldn’t do a thing about it. No, he had to, he to _make things right, he’s right here, make. Things. Right._

Yuuri dropped his gaze as he lurched forward and embraced Victor in the tightest hug his arms could provide. He looked back up, a gentle flush of pink blooming in Victor’s cheeks that made him look vulnerable.

“Victor, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I…” Yuuri tightened his grip on Victor’s shirt. “No, no I can. Victor, I am so, so sorry how I’ve been treating you. I was mad at you, yes, but it was for such a silly reason. I…I don’t know.” He squeezed tighter, gritting his teeth as he forced his eyes to stay up. “No, I _do_ know. I was hurt, insanely jealous when I saw that girl kissing you. I should know better. I should never be childish and controlling over your love life, acting like it’s your responsibility to choose who you should want to k-kiss and hug. But, if it were me, know that I’d want to treat you right.”

Yuuri couldn’t help but bury his face in Victor’s chest to gain more courage, unaware of the latter’s spreading blush and wavering eyes.

“I want to hold your hand to let you know everything is okay,” the brunet blabbed out, unable to stop his mouth or tears. “I want to hug you when I feel lonely. I want to go on walks in the park with you and eat good food together. I want to write to you to remind you I’m always thinking of you. I want to be as happy as Makkachin when he sees me in the doorway. _I_ want to be the reason you smile every day, and—”

Yuuri bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, his heart unsteady with raw emotion. “I’m so sorry Victor,” he whispered, shoulders shaking hard. “If this is how I act around you, then I’m not good for you. I can’t…have you.”

“Says who?”

The kiss was jolting, instantaneous, and a little hard on the lips. But it was also fulfilling, love-deprived, and too much to ignore. Yuuri’s eyes popped open and became stagnant at the sensation of Victor’s lips pressed to his. A solid minute felt like an even two hours to the surprised Japanese boy, much longer than their first kiss shared in a dry kitchen at barely 7 a.m. Victor left a bit of a wet touch as he pulled away, his fingers tenderly lifting a now pink Yuuri by the chin.

“Your face is always a beautiful color whenever I’m around you,” Victor whispered, raindrops dripping off a soft smile. _His_ smile. “I’ve thought of doing this to you for the longest, kissing in the rain and making it special, but someone took the beauty from my lips. That girl…” Victor shook his head but still had his smile. “She took that beauty from me. She kissed me so suddenly I didn’t know what to do. I was so scared and confused.”

“You mean…that girl wasn’t your…?”

Victor shook his head. “I always thought it would seem weird to kiss a friend. Good friends don’t really do that. But,” he added, almost sternly, “we are not friends, Yuuri.”

The tears were about to kill him. “What?”

Victor shook his head again, putting his forehead to the emotional boy. “We can’t be friends. We are more than that now, _da?_ I have your heart, and you have mine.”

Yuuri stood in silence, the words echoing and spinning around his jumbled mind. He had Victor’s heart? When and how? Victor actually wanted to kiss him with meaning and passion, but had been holding back for this long? That girl, whoever she was, wasn’t his girlfriend and just pulled a stunt to make him break down?

Yuuri’s pounding heart slowed, and he closed his eyes to relish the warmth and passion he was being given in those familiar, comforting arms.

“Victor… Thank you.”


	16. Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”—Wayne Dyer

Relentless rainwater gushed from the clouds above, pounding on the windows and shining the kitchen floor with splendid shades of twilight at the same time the stars twinkled in the uproar of precipitation. Yuuri felt himself grinning as he watched his mother ladle another hearty helping of soup for Victor. The boys’ feet touched under the table, and any time their toes graced off one another, a tingle shot up through Yuuri’s fingertips and he always caught Victor’s smile before he had another drink of water or hid it behind his napkin.

“It was like watching a production back there,” Toshiya teased, looking up from his newspaper he had to speed through earlier. “You boys standing in the rain, talking so close like you couldn’t hear one another. It was something else.”

“I felt like we swapped places,” Yuuri teased Victor, smiling bashfully. “I found you out in the rain this time.”

Victor shook his head, amused and probably still in disbelief. “Yes, but I cannot believe you’ve hurt yourself _again_ Yuuri. Do you need to be put in a hamster ball?”

Yuuri managed a short-breathed chuckle and rubbed the side of his reddening neck. “Guess I have my own ways of coping with stress. I can see why anyone would be frustrated with me.”

Victor shook his head again, putting his hand over Yuuri’s and keeping it there. “My silly piglet, I could never stay mad at you. But you should have others to go to if you need to talk. No more bridges or running out in the cold and rain. And definitely no skating when you’re so upset.”

“I know. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Piglet?” Mari lazily repeated, stirring sugar in her coffee. “What’s that all about?”

“That is my new nickname for Yuuri.” Victor went to squeeze the boy’s cheeks, followed by his round stomach. “He’s always turning a beautiful shade of pink around me and has the belly for it.”

“Aw, that’s adorable!” Hiroko gushed, patting her son’s head. “You two really are good friends. I’m so glad!”

Toshiya smiled. “Have you got any nicknames for Victor, son?”

“Embarrassing.” Yuuri hadn’t realized what he said aloud until all that he heard was the rain beating against the kitchen window. On cue, he turned a brilliant shade of pink. “I-I mean…”

Mari waved a hand, smirking behind her mug. “Nope, you’ve spoken. Don’t take it to heart Victor,” she said the Russian’s way, who didn’t appear offended in the slightest. “Yuuri gets easily flustered. I remember how fast he snapped at me some weeks ago when I asked when he was inviting you over for dinner.”

Hiroko pat Victor’s head this time. “Now we do have him over for dinner.” She pecked a motherly kiss on his cheek. “And you’re welcome to any meal anytime honey. Our home is your home.”

A string of Victor’s first language steadily flowed out of his mouth while he bowed his head, getting three out of the four members of the Katsuki family to exchange puzzled glances.

“He said, ‘thank you for the lovely words. You’re very kind.’” All eyes were on Yuuri. “What?”

“You’ve been learning Russian?”

Yuuri looked at Victor, the latter’s eyes swirling with so many emotions that he wasn’t sure which he saw first. There was definitely some surprise in them, paired with a bit of confusion and a touch of passion. He shrugged and reached for the pepper shaker, instantly feeling a shiver dive down his spine when Victor’s hand stopped him.

“Yuuri,” Victor started again, all eyes having returned to him, “have you always known Russian?”

“I-I…” There was no point dancing around it. What good would that do? “I had to find some way to distract myself while I was recovering. I’m nowhere near fluent with speaking, but I can translate okay. I wanted to try and speak it with you Victor, because I knew at some point you’d be homesick.”

Yuuri saw the surprise register on Victor’s face before he could hide it. A small smile played on his lips as he ducked his head and shrugged again. In the blink of an eye, Yuuri now wore the look of surprise when Victor stood from the table and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He was murmuring in Russian, and Yuuri could only catch things like ‘beautiful’, ‘simple’ and ‘star’.

Despite the heaviness in his stomach, it fluttered at the feeling of Victor’s body pressed against his. Yuuri sunk into the warmth of his side, appreciative of the simple gesture. But the fitted lips on his own left his soul gasping. Not because it did the silly thing in movies and took his breath away, but because it was so unexpected and _in front of Mom, Dad and Mari. Victor just kissed me in front of them! They don’t know that I… They don’t know that I’m…_

Yuuri didn’t mean to shove Victor away, but it was completely out of nowhere! He never knew how hard his knees could shake or how gross his stomach could knot up. He knew he would fall the second it gave out. It felt like his insides were being replaced by a twisting and expanding black hole, and his head felt both empty and hot. A funny prickle surged from his abdomen, his eyes rolled back, and the world went black.

. . . . . . . .

A light rainstorm was something that normally stopped Yuuri’s thoughts from fretting and worrying. It calmed him, and at the same time excited him. The city would be washed anew from any black and gray and, coupled with an evening wash, would spring up, like an echo of life bursting into the night. But it was of no help if he couldn’t hear it.

Yuuri awoke as if he were jolted from an emergency. His heart beat fast and there was a minor buzzing on the side of his head, stringing together all kinds of panic. He felt like he was in a Salvador Dali painting; everything was wonky.

_What happened? Did I fall asleep?_

“Yuuri! Oh, thank goodness! Please don’t ever scare me like that again!”

_Mom?_

“I never thought you were prone to passing out.”

_Mari…_

Yuuri rubbed at his sore temple and blinked a couple times, sensing something heavy on his forehead. A cool compress chilled his skin while two blurry figures, soon revealed to indeed be his sister and mother, focused in front of him. Mari was holding a cup of something steaming, and Hiroko had her hands clasped in concern, sitting at the foot of Yuuri’s bed.

“What happened?” Yuuri mumbled, carefully sitting up.

Mari set the cup on the bedside table and gently eased Yuuri backwards. “You were out for a minute or two, so not that bad but still a little worrisome.”

“You gave us all a fright,” Hiroko added, her usual honeyed expression and light voice wrought with stress. She hovered both hands over her chest before leaning forward to nuzzle her nose into her son’s. “Oh, my poor Yuuri.”

“Were you that much in shock that you and your boyfriend finally became official?”

Yuuri just about choked on his tongue. “ _Mari!_ ”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “I would say I’m kidding, but I really have no place to say it. Come on Yuuri,” she added, nudging her dumbstruck little brother while Hiroko looked on in confusion, “it’s so obvious you’re meant for this guy. His compassion and concern for you? You stammering every time he’s mentioned or visits? Your face says it all; L-O-V-E. It’s sweet.”

Yuuri kept his gaze down, embarrassment clouding and burning his eyes as he swallowed hard. Mari watched him trying to pick up his scattered ego, and her expression slowly softened. She knew her laidback tongue and lazy half-smiles could get her both in and out of trouble, and right now she felt guilty for making Yuuri feel even worse after he’d just fainted.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to frustrate you.”

A beat of silence.

“Yuuri, please. I meant no harm.”

Another beat. Mari sighed and gripped her brother’s chin, making him look in her eyes and deciding to go for one last tactic. Something she hadn’t thought of sharing in a long while until the right time came forward. She really hadn’t wanted it to be a time like this, especially with her mother around, but her heart told her Yuuri needed to hear it.

“The night Victor stayed over and I didn’t bring you the mattress? I didn’t bring it because I locked myself in my room and cried.”

Yuuri’s head snapped up, his face unsure of which emotion to display first. “What?” He croaked out.

Mari nodded once, the tips of her ears going red. “I saw you smile for the first time in months, Yuuri. It made me so happy.” She couldn’t help the couple of tears that slid down her cheeks, and she roughly wiped them away, rolling her eyes at herself. “So damn happy that my little brother was speaking again.”

Hiroko brought her children together in a tight hug, Eskimo kissing each one. “We all know how hard it was on you after Vicchan passed away,” she started quietly, looking into Yuuri’s wet eyes. “We know baby, we truly did. It was hard on us, too. He was an amazing dog and your best friend. I know it’s never easy to get over mourning, but you eventually did − because of this boy, Yuuri. This boy meant for your heart.”

_We can’t be friends. We are more than that now. I have your heart, and you have mine. Victor told you that, and what did you do?_

“Where’s Victor now?” Yuuri asked, voice barely above a whisper.

_You made him upset. He kissed you already and you looked like you were playing with him. You dummy!_

“In the bath,” Mari said, wiping her face and cocking a thumb over her shoulder. “He looked like he was going to pass out right after you, and Dad had to escort him up to the bathroom so he could calm down.”

_You did that to him. You made him worry because you worried what your family would think. Your family loves you and Victor. Stupid!_

“Will he be okay?”

Hiroko nodded. “Of course, dear. I’m going to make you boys something warm that’ll calm your nerves.”

_Because you made him worried. He almost passed out! You need to fix this. You need to show him you care._

“When he’s done, could you tell him to come to my room?” _Show him you’re not going anywhere. Show him you’re sorry for pushing him away so many times._ “I really need to see him.”

_And show him how much he means to me._


	17. Texture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I fell in love with the way you touched me without using your hands.”

Maybe it was a good thing that actions spoke louder than words. After his father had guided Victor into his room and left the two alone, Yuuri couldn’t tell him a thing. He didn’t know where to start or how he would finish.

Maybe it was courage or pure instinct that he felt an urge to do something, to comfort not only Victor but also himself. In no time Yuuri pressed his lips against his, touching Victor’s body and feeling how much it tensed up from the surprise. No sooner had he done this than Victor loosened up and brought Yuuri further into the kiss by the shoulders.

There was almost a tease-like touch behind the returning kiss. Not so fiery and hot to lose its innocence, but passionate enough to make a statement. _I want you, and I will show you why_. At first Yuuri wanted to pull away before he got lost in such a brand-new and promising world, but he couldn’t seem to.

In that wistful moment, his senses had been seduced and he couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t count how many times Victor whispered slowly in his ear, prolonging each letter of his name as if to savor them and hold them close. Yuuri’s heart shied forward at his voice. His name had been said so many times in so many ways by him, but now…

Now it had never sounded so wonderful.

Yuuri quietly leaned in for another kiss, and the world with all its troubles and consequences fell away. Victor’s hand rested below his ear, thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingled sweetly. Yuuri ran his fingers down Victor’s spine, feeling out − _one_ , _two_ , _three_ − the gentle bones of his scapula. The place left of someone’s wings, or so he had once read somewhere in a novel.

He startled when Victor started doing the same to him, pulling him close until he could feel the joined heartbeats. He was counting too, counting out where his wings had once been. Yuuri didn’t think he had had that impressive of a pair once upon a time ago, but Victor was so passionate to trace them and count them out to him that he guessed that maybe, just maybe, they had been beautiful.

“…t-tickles, Victor…”

“It tickles?”

Yuuri nodded in his shoulder, hoping that when he had stopped tracing Victor would do the same. He kept going, up and around, down and back.

“It tickles and nothing else?” Victor murmured.

Further to the side, tracing just below the curves of his pecs and centimeters away from nudging a blooming pink bud.

“Y-ye… _Ah!_ ”

Unexpectedly Victor’s hand drifted to Yuuri’s hip, settling there for a fraction of a second before pulling him a couple inches off the bed. Yuuri exhaled shakily at the sudden shift in mood and splayed a hand on Victor’s chest, intending to push him away.

But he left it there.

Victor began nuzzling his neck with the faintest and most delicate of pecks, as if he were whispering sweet nothings on the skin. Yuuri shuddered at the sensation, remembering those kinds of touches in the spotty dreams and nightmares he’d have. They had all seemed so real, so determined and loving. The border of reality and fantasy had made itself known after he woke up, though now he was right in the center of these affections and emotions.

Half his brain wanted to _slow down, don’t rush, take it in_ , but the other half was already drunk from the fervor and _he loved it, it’s amazing, he’s showing me he cares too_.

“Yuuri.” Victor’s voice was low and tickled the boy’s skin even more. “Please, if I am moving too fast for you or if you’re scared, I will not be hurt if you say so. Is this okay?”

Yuuri barely shook his head. Not because he wasn’t okay with what Victor was doing, but because he was so choked up with a powerful feeling of bliss. How had he been so lucky?

If he hadn’t been under that bridge in the rain, would he have ever met Victor? Sure he went to his school, but knowing Yuuri, his anxiety would have most likely made him steer clear of him while foolishly labeling him as a ladies’ man or a bad influence. He actually had Victor right in his arms, all to himself, and snugly in his life that he couldn’t believe it. He truly couldn’t.

There was a brief flicker of sadness in Victor’s eyes as he began to pull away. “No?”

Yuuri held him tight, cold air and the fear of saying the wrong thing rushing through his body instead of the warmth and euphoria it had used up moments ago. He traced every inch of Victor’s face, not wanting to take a chance and lose those eyes ever again.

“I do, Victor. I want this. I want you.”

In the room on that quiet evening, Yuuri and Victor moved like partners in a dance with choreography strictly written for them. Their bodies fit together as if they were made for it, to fall into one another, to feel the natural rhythm. The physical part of love − while at first terrifying, unsure, and a bit painful − brought out a special kind of addiction as the minutes dragged on.

An addition to the voice, the touch, another kiss, another moan.

Yuuri had always thought he would wait, taking pride in a self-preservation sort of thing. Or at the very least he would step up and explore a little here and there after college. It was the anticipation of being together with someone in a way that was more than words, in a way that was so completely tangible and beautiful and right.

Love didn’t discriminate, and it did not bear any limitations. One touch and Victor’s intoxication was instant for Yuuri. One smile and Yuuri’s entire being sent Victor in a heady trance.

And in the midst of it all, four words…

“Yuuri, I love you.”

…were tied together with five.

“I love you too, Victor.”


	18. Value & Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When two people really care about each other, they will always look for a way to make it work, no matter how hard it is.”

In a new relationship, a couple let each day build a picture until they felt certain that when they were with one another, they were a better and happier version of themselves. And that was smart, if you really thought about it.

You would only ever get to know a person over time. It was when you were comfortable together, when you could talk in ways best friends did, that things were alright.

Victor was the eye of the hurricane when he came to Yuuri. He was raw and hurting, yet Victor was patient and caring no matter what. The affection he gradually showed the Japanese boy in just under a month was something new for Yuuri, and it both touched and frightened him. He was only ever familiar with familial love and the overwhelming love he had had for Vicchan.

To love someone in a combination of those ways and more, well, Yuuri was more than a little ashamed that he had been aware of something growing for Victor ever since he saw those beautiful eyes smiling in his own when he reached a hand out. He chose to keep it quiet, trying to convince himself that he was only being grateful for the umbrella and walk home.

He told himself he was admiring Victor from afar when he got those uneasy shifts in his stomach. There was nothing wrong thinking he was handsome, because he was. He was loud, carefree, and had the hyperactivity to rival any child on a sugar high. But in the classroom, at the park, in the restaurant, on the skating rink…

In those odd but precious moments, in those times Victor had picked Yuuri up and set him on his feet without Yuuri even knowing it. Those events, no matter how short or long, had magnified tenfold and pushed something forward. Something Yuuri was positive he never would have fathomed in his entire life.

He was crushing.

And when he had let his emotions run wild and _dove_ toward conclusions when he spotted Victor and that girl kissing, Yuuri had never felt more disgusted in himself. Crushing so hard and falling harder, shaking himself up and shaking others in his life even more. If Vicchan was still around, he would have probably helped his owner out of his self-dug rut, but not by much. He would have reminded him of Makkachin, and then he would have cried even harder, hugging his own toy poodle to stay but also wanting him to leave him alone.

Then, and Yuuri didn’t know what, but something had brought him and Victor back. Fate? Destiny? Magic? No, something more raw, more genuine, more beautiful. He could hear it in the silence. He could feel it on the way home. He could see it with the lights out.

He was in love. True love. And that had sealed the two’s hearts into one. But as much as that love burned and brought Yuuri all the warmth on his coldest, most bitter days…

“Yuuri, I can’t… Don’t be upset, but I can’t anymore.”

He thought that the fuel of romance should only be affection, caring, love. Never the fear of being alone.

“I _have_ to leave you.”

Thorns could be hidden in that colorful garden of love. It was a nuisance for sure, though no matter how much they scratched, poked, or irritated you…

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do this, but what else can I do?”

Reassurance would always be the gauze, and hope would always be the hand that patched the injuries up. In the dimly-lit living room, where the pounding rain couldn’t have been a bigger cliché, Yuuri cupped Victor’s face as his colorful eyes darkened in melancholy. Never had he seen those eyes so hopeless, so dreary and scared. What was going through his mind right now?

“It’s okay,” he whispered, though his voice cracked. He could feel the reluctance in his smile. “It’s okay.”

Yuuri needed to walk along that thorny path, to grow strong against the jabs, to be let loose in that isolation. In that fear. How else was he going to grow?

Victor bit his lip, gripping the back of Yuuri’s head so tightly his knuckles turned white. He pushed him forward, half of Yuuri’s face suffocating in his chest where his uneven heartbeat _thump, thump, thumped_. “You have to yell at me. Cry, scream at me. This is terrible. You’ll be—”

“Please Victor, just go.” Yuuri knew if he looked up, he really would start yelling and crying and screaming at him. “He needs you the most right now.”

If Victor left, then he and Yuuri would have an even better foundation. A footing that could last. Stacked up on sturdy trust, everlasting passion, pure love. Yuuri understood it was hard for Victor to grasp this, but he also knew that if he stayed behind and carried on like things were normal, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

So, in the dimly-lit living room, where the pounding rain couldn’t have been a bigger cliché, Victor hesitated. He hesitated for so long that Yuuri stole one brief glance his way. He was crying, but he loosened his hold and planted a delicate kiss where his grip had left a faint throbbing on Yuuri’s head.

“Okay.”

Makkachin had long been sent back to Victor’s home to be under his parents’ care when the eve of tests and school-related stress soon trickled down on him. As much as Victor loved his childhood friend, he had to admit that being successful in school was just as important to loving him. It had been no more than a couple of weeks, and every now and then Victor would get unusually blue that no amount of kisses and encouragements from Yuuri could fix.

Then his mother had called urgently one night notifying him that the pup had swallowed something and it had been lodged someplace crucial that required surgery to extract. Victor had repeatedly told Yuuri in the past that Makkachin rarely ever acted out and knew better than to eat inedible objects, but whenever the toy poodle’s curiosity got the best of him, Victor stated it was his sole responsibility to fix things.

Even if he was a country away.

Seeing Victor pale in worry, Yuuri, his parents, and Mari had flooded him with the same reassurances; everything would be okay, his parents would take care of everything, he needed to relax and clear his mind. The slightest flick of selfishness caught in Yuuri’s heart at one point, and he had desperately wanted Victor to stay for some time so he could calm down.

Then the jarring memory of how he hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Vicchan smoked into his mind.

“We’ll get you on the first thing in the air,” Toshiya had promised. “We know how much he means to you.”

Victor had just about jumped on each Katsuki family member. “He does, he does mean a lot to me. I want to see him. I need to see him."

This of course had still broken Yuuri’s heart to no end as prickly questions flooded his haywire mind. How long would Victor be gone? Would Makkachin be okay? Would Victor have to transfer to another school in Russia? How long would Makkachin need to recover? Would Victor be so protective over what his dog did that he’d never leave?

But if Yuuri had been given the chance to see Vicchan one last time before his health had declined, he would be, without a doubt, on the next thing moving. Land, ocean, in the sky, it didn’t matter. A boy’s love for his dog could not compare. Yuuri was proud of Victor, scared for him, desperate for him. Yet he knew it wouldn’t be right to hold him back.

So Yuuri had to let him go.

“Don’t hide under any more bridges while I’m gone,” Victor teased while squeezing Yuuri in a final embrace. He had already hugged his parents and Mari twice, and he was saving the best of his hugs for Yuuri.

Yuuri nodded and let out a dry chuckle. “I’ll try my best. Hug Makkachin for me, okay?”

“Of course.”

Victor ruffled his hair and turned to his family, the worry lines under his eyes lifting slightly as he smiled and bowed his head, mumbling out some Russian. On cue, the three turned to Yuuri to translate.

He swallowed hard and stared down at his shoes. “He…he says ‘thank you for being second family’.”

Hiroko stepped forward to kiss Victor’s cheek, reminding him how he was always welcome back home. Toshiya and Mari both gave Victor another hug, wishing him safe travels and saying Makkachin would be in their prayers.

It was like the scene before Yuuri was playing in slow motion; Victor grabbed his luggage, made his way to the terminal, and waved goodbye over his shoulder. He barely felt Mari hugging him by the shoulders, and he barely heard his father asking if he was okay. Watching the plane depart sent so many daggers into Yuuri’s heart that he tried his best to ignore, but the tearing was too much to bear.

The moment the clouds swallowed the air transportation up, there was no point to hide the tears that broke free.


	19. Picture Frame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We can’t direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails.”

**Three weeks later.**

Something deep in the back of Yuuri’s mind nagged him whenever he tried to sleep. It had first started off as a timid little buzzing, the moment Victor had said he loved him when they were all alone in his bedroom. Those three sweet words, so unexpected but again, so sweet, had sent all of mankind’s known emotions through his head.

Confusion, happiness, worry, nervousness, delight, uneasiness.

The minute, no, the _second_ Victor had whispered those words in his ear, it didn’t matter how many negative spouts pricked his stomach. Yuuri wanted all of him. He wanted to be with him. He wanted to be in Victor’s dreams and ambitions. He wanted to be the person Victor could eagerly run to and hold tight. How beautiful would that be, to stay his lover, to be the one he could kiss and it’d color gold all over his heart?

It would be disastrously beautiful.

Yuuri’s hopeless romantic high hadn’t come down on its own; he had to sedate it with the sickening needle of reality. Victor had his own life to think of. Victor had had his own life to think of before he met Yuuri.

It wasn’t a bad thing that Yuuri was just another chapter in his life, but it didn’t make him feel good considering the circumstances he was in. Victor was still in Russia, and not only that, but he’d been Yuuri’s senior in school before the emergency flight back to Russia. He’d had to study hard and concentrate if thoughts of college and degrees were swarming his almost-adult mind.

Yuuri didn’t know the stances on education in Russia or how late they held students until they were ready to face an adult life. He would most likely be completing his final year of high school when the hulking responsibilities of finding a job would be on Victor’s shoulders. Would his parents continue to support him? Would he have to find and build an entirely new social circle?

The expenses of living on his own back in his mother country couldn’t have been cheap. They never really were, even if it was just a guy and his dog. Did Victor want to live alone? Did he need roommates other than a furry face smiling at him every morning? For how long would his own dreams and goals have to be put on hold if he wanted more company, like…like another lover.

And then a family.

The harsh reality of Victor staying in Russia permanently after a lack of his presence for almost a full month said it all. If his Japanese teachers, starstruck fangirls, and jovial sports member were no longer gabbing about him in the hallways, if Takeshi and Yuuko were no longer wondering when he’d be back at the rink, if Yuuri’s parents were gradually bringing him up less and less and Mari was stopping her daydreams of his all together…

What was stopping Yuuri from doing the same?

* * *

**Eight weeks later.**

The bus rocked from side to side as it cruised through the familiar roads leaving the city. Far, far in the back Yuuri sat and stared out the window, eyes bleary and reactions slow, his exhaustion greeting the horizon that would soon be erased on arrival when he returned to another world.

There was a feeling in his stomach, a soft mixture between nausea and an electric tingling, as the wheels rolled over the same turns and bumps. His head buzzed and his heart rate shot up, an odd impish glee taking over.

It was as if he were a child running away after being scolded by his father for not cleaning his room. _Maybe_. Maybe today he’d do it. Just to see what happened, just to see if he could get away with it.

The peace of it all − quiet birdsong, an unbroken patch of blue-and-white, sleeping on a great quilt of golden, brown and green squares.

He could do that. Why couldn’t he? It would be like an adventure. It wasn’t exactly a bridge, and the weather was nice and fine and he’d eaten. He wouldn’t go hungry and have his mother worrying about his already shrinking hips and stomach. Mari knew where he was going. Not necessarily for how long or if he planned on returning, but no one would go into a worried frenzy about _where’s Yuuri, when did you last see him, call the police_.

Keep tabs from afar on the city would be like…would be like a photography assignment at school!

Yuuri would need to stay longer than the appropriate hours, but that could be congratulated more than it could be frowned upon. He was a hard worker. His peers were starting to see that in his submissions to the literary magazine. His teachers were actually complimenting him, some guys were getting more comfortable hanging around him on the track field, and even a couple girls waved in his general direction.

Yuuri could do it. He could impress passersby by saying something good about nature, like a free tour guide. He would wave to them and return to appreciate nature. He would sleep under the stars until graduation, all throughout summer vacation, straight into orientation.

The bus curved down the twisting road, the faint expanses of green and a notable frisson of joy looming much too out of reach. The silver vehicle eventually chugged to a stop, emitting a bit of exhaust in time to Yuuri’s sigh. He watched three to five people lumber off to the countryside, their laughter and cheer fizzling further out of ear shot, then their bodies grew blurrier and blurrier as the vehicle carried Yuuri back home.

What was he thinking? The countryside couldn’t love him like Victor had.

* * *

**Ten weeks later.**

When Yuuri’s paintbrush moved over the canvas, it was almost like his mind was directing his hand without his say. One might have found that odd, but he couldn’t really question his eccentric mindset by how many brash decisions he’d made in the past.

Yuuri had been relieved to have learned that Makkachin’s surgery had gone well and he ha had a slow but calm recovery. Photos for proof and recordings of him racing up and down lush Russian lawns just wasn’t enough. The absence and odd time zones interfered too much. Victor would of course try to video chat and keep things up to date on his Instagram, and Yuuri knew he was trying his absolute best to fill the hole in both their hearts.

The boys didn’t even have to utter the three strange words that seemed to stretch from pain to discomfort to numb each day. It was obvious in the silence, on the way home, with the lights out. Being painfully in love wasn’t always beautiful as many painted it out to be.

The paintbrush moved harshly to the right among the watercolors, and it should have made Yuuri smile at what he created. Instead he sighed and propped the easel against a tree, stretching out the cricks in his back and trying to clear his mind before the gray settled too deep into his system.

“Deep breaths, in and out,” he coached himself aloud. “In, out, in, out. Think about the ice rink. Your painting’s nearly finished. You can go to lunch with Mari—”

A sound interrupted his encouraging train of thought. Quiet at first, as if it were stranded out in the distance. Then, it picked up volume and grew nearer and nearer. Yuuri turned his head and raised an eyebrow. _What the heck?_

It sounded warbled to his ears, but he still strained his hearing to properly discern it. He had little time though, as Yuuri’s eyes soon widened as a dog bounded toward him in a dark blur and jumped on his leg, throwing him off balance. Its tongue immediately lapped against his face, slicking his glasses and cheeks with slobber.

“Wait! No, no, please!” Yuuri laughed and tried pushing him back. “Good boy, good—” His eyes widened as the pet continued to attack his face, puffing happily and tail wagging hard. _No._ “G-good…boy…” _No_.

A sharp whistle echoed in the air as the dog ran over to the source. Yuuri’s heart went double as an extended hand soon found itself in his face.

“Has he startled you?”

Something in Yuuri snuck up quietly and took him under by the arms in an instant. It was like the sob was stuck in his throat and all his eyes could do was just get blurry and sting. And that was it. No heaving shoulders, no gross snot, no going hoarse from screaming.

“Sir? Excuse me, sir? Has my dog startled you?”

“Harold, where’s Arnold? Did he run off again?”

“Yes, dear. He snapped off his leash and jumped on this poor boy. Must remind him of Teddy. I’m so sorry young man. You know how Dalmatians can be, right?”

Yuuri nodded numbly, eyeing the spotted dog’s bright eyes blinking into his. He knew dogs all right.

* * *

**Into November…**

“Oh, I’m so excited! It’s almost midnight. We haven’t stayed up to this time in years, have we Toshiya?”

“You make us sound older than we really are.”

“Yeah Mom. You’ve already celebrated your f—”

“ _Shh_ , _shh!_ It’s not my age we’re celebrating now dear.” Hiroko beamed and squished Yuuri’s cheeks. “My little boy is turning into a young man!”

“Mom…” Around his complaint and inability to feel his face from his mother’s pinching fingers, Yuuri would feel like a monster if he didn’t humor the woman and smile. “I’m gonna be sixteen, not twenty-one.”

“Irregardless, it’s an important milestone,” Toshiya piped up, raising something fizzing in his glass. “You’ll still feel an incredible childish rush, clinging to youth, but now you have brand-new options of independence. Driving, jobs, soon university…”

“Dating.” Mari instantly coughed around the words, and Yuuri shot her a weak smile. She had tried. “You know, daytime stuff. I remember when I turned sixteen.”

Hiroko nodded, a proud gleam gracing her dark eyes. “Sixteen… Such a pretty number.” Shaking her head before she lost it in nostalgia, she clapped her hands twice. “Twelve minutes to midnight! Mari, get the lighter. Toshiya, where’s the cake?”

Yuuri sighed and leaned into the corners of the couch, wanting it to swallow him so he wouldn’t have to get this type of “birthday boy” treatment but also wanting to get as comfy as possible. Who knew how long his family was going to be staying up? Waiting up on someone’s birthday wasn’t an old or new tradition, but Yuuri figured he had unconsciously been transferring some of his nerves and spouts of loneliness onto his parents.

In the months leading up to his big day, they hadn’t gone out of the way as much to make it too obvious they were worried. Just little splurges here and there, like a new set of watercolors or a bigger journal where he could keep his assignments for school. They gave him things he would ask for to cover over whenever they were in a grand spoiling mood.

Yuuri hadn’t bat an eye at a trip to Tokyo or a special trip to Mari’s campus where one of Yuuri’s favorite poets was a guest speaker. He thought that was just family being family. He wasn’t verbally complaining, and he didn’t want to start giving away any discomfort with his body language now.

So, Yuuri put on his best expecting smile and closed his eyes when instructed to by Hiroko. The lights dimmed, flecks of yellow and orange danced around the room, and he could smell strawberries and buttercream.

“ _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, our dear Yuuri, happy birthday…to…_ ”

His mother kissed his cheek, making Yuuri giggle.

“…my sweet Yuuri.”

He had no doubt the people next door heard his scream. He had no doubt he almost flung the cake out of his approaching father’s hands. He had no doubts, no, not anymore. His eyes flung open and he sent him and Victor crashing to the floor.

“Oh Yuuri…” Victor returned the choking embrace and kept him still, chuckling in his hair. He breathed out, nice and slow, pecking his forehead several times. “My precious honey. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting for this long. Things were so busy and I was here and there, but I’m back.”

Through gritted teeth, gross snot, and labored breaths, Yuuri tried spatting out Victor’s name in a coherent way. Makkachin pawed at his legs, politely asking for attention as well. Yuuri collapsed on all fours and brought the poodle close, who eagerly lapped at his eyes and chin, letting out a small bark.

“Did you think we wouldn’t mail Victor’s invitation?” Mari smirked, watching her brother, a blubber of tears and screams and laughter, stumble up to his feet.

“Happy birthday baby!” Hiroko cheered, holding her own tears back as Toshiya leaned forward with the brightly lit cake.

Yuuri almost spit out his breath. He was so surprised. Victor silenced his imminent questions with a finger to the lips as Toshiya, Mari and Hiroko to cut the cake and get some plates. He held his finger there for a minute before reaching in his back pocket and cupping one of Yuuri’s hands.

Something small and cold pressed on his ring finger. Yuuri blinked as a tiny golden ring shone up at him, with his birthday date and a heart engraved in the center.

“What is…” The question didn’t get out as Yuuri looked to see Victor holding up his own hand where a similar ring on his respective finger gleamed. “V-Victor, what did you…?”

“It has my birthday on here, too. They’re promise rings,” Victor explained, taking Yuuri’s newly ringed hand and holding it to his heart. “They’ll hold all our promises we make for ourselves and for one another. Like how I promise, with all my heart, to be there for you Yuuri. I couldn’t see myself loving another chubby, beautifully red ice skater like you. You don’t really have a belly anymore,” he added with a chuckle, looking down at Yuuri’s slim figure. “But that doesn’t matter. I will love your scars, your skin, your heart. I hope that you’ll love mine, as well.”

A tiny draft flowed past Yuuri’s legs as he engaged in a brief silent staring contest. _Hey Vicchan. Thanks for the birthday wishes, buddy._ The candlelight bounced off the reflective surfaces of their rings, and when Yuuri turned his hand slightly to the floor, the chill got colder and tickled the ends of his feet.

In an instant, Yuuri wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck and placed a long overdue, deeply passionate kiss to his lips.

“Victor,” he whispered, smiling up gratefully into his favorite colorful eyes, “I love you.”

Victor laid his forehead against Yuuri’s, soon returning his kiss after he promised him, “I love you more, Yuuri.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many of you have stuck through these sporadic updates and given me tons of feedback. I hope I’ve given you all the honeyed ending you’ve been waiting for correctly. Thank you so much for following Yuuri and Victor’s journey! I may or may not be brewing up a potential sequel in my mind, but we shall see how far I’ll entertain the idea.
> 
> Stay fabulous, you lovely reader! ❤️️


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